


Little talks, little changes

by Morgan_is_writing



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'll be adding relationships and characters as i go, I'm Sorry, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, Melida/Daan, Multi, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Protective Mandalorians, Qui-Gon is not in a good place to teach anyone, Slow Burn, The force is a little shit, True Mandalorians, protect the children, so is going to be slow, this story begins with them as children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgan_is_writing/pseuds/Morgan_is_writing
Summary: The universe and its possibilities are as great as the Force itself. In another version of events, Obi-wan Kenobi is not forced to resign himself to walk a path of eternal sadness. On this occasion, small changes, small talks, and the Force determined to help one of their favorite children will cause a very different outcome than what we know in that galaxy far, far away.It all starts in the 52 BBY, on a planet known as Korda Six ...
Relationships: Arla Fett & Jango Fett, Dooku & Feemor (Star Wars), Feemor & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Future Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett & Jaster Mereel, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jaster Mereel & Arla Fett, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Bail Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Quinlan Vos
Comments: 282
Kudos: 879
Collections: Anything But Qui-Gon





	1. Arla Fett

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!!! So, this is my first time writing a Star Wars fanfic so, please, be kind. I love comments and kudos so, if you like what I'm writing, please let me know. This was just a random idea I had in my head until I decided to write it, so it's possible that sometimes won't make sense, because I don't have anything planned, just a weird outline. I may get some things wrong because I know very little about the universe outside the films, but I'll work hard to get everything right.  
> Anyway, there are a lot of other fanfics that inspired this one so, as soon as I collect every title, I'll put them in the notes.  
> I hope you like this first Chapter!!!!
> 
> I realized that I didn't say it, so I'm telling you that if you want to come and scream or talk to me about star wars, my fics, or any other thing, I have a Tumblr: @morganiswriting. I usually write random thoughts on it, but I'd love to talk to all of you.

Obi-wan Kenobi's story is one that was written a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away from here, and that no one can change anymore. That Obi-wan was a Padawan to Qui-Gon Jinn, survived the Clone Wars, and died at the hands of Darth Vader, his former apprentice. That was one of the many paths that Obi-wan could have taken, but not the only one.

The story that I am going to tell you here is a very different one, with other decisions and people capable of preventing Obi-wan Kenobi's destiny from being a person doomed to walk a path of eternal sadness.

Obi-wan Kenobi's life doesn't change much in his first thirteen years of being alive. He remains the arrogant and intelligent little initiate with a clear tendency to visions and who wants to prove himself. However, there are other things beyond the control of the Jedi Order that do change, and with them, the rest of the galaxy also begins to do so.

On that first path, Jaster Mereel died a few years after Obi-wan Kenobi was born. Betrayed by his second in command, no one could avoid the backstab that led a very young Jango Fett to become Mand’alor. Today, the story goes a little differently. This time, Arla Fett was rescued along with Jango Fett, and that would change everything.

Let me show you:

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Korda Six would have been a nice place to rest if it wasn't for the work that awaited them. "Easy credits," Jaster had said. Jango had agreed. However, Arla had the horrible feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong.

It wasn't until she overheard a conversation she shouldn't have heard that she realized how badly that mission could go.

“Someday Jaster will choose his successor, and when he does, he will need to have a cold head. Thinking of the best for the _Haat Mando’ade_ , not a pair of brats that he rescued because he had no other option. Now get out of my way and don't screw this mission up. ”

Montross emerged from the dark hallway where he had been speaking to Jango, who followed soon after. Neither of them saw Arla's loose jaw or incredulous expression. Neither of them saw how she run towards the only person who could make sense of what she had just seen.

" _Buir_!" Arla ran into Jaster's tent, where the man quietly put on all parts of the armor.

"Arla? What's going on, _ad'ika_? ”

The girl was silent for a few seconds, clutching her helmet tightly. Surely her knuckles were getting whiter in the gloves from the force she was using but was unable to stop herself from doing it.

" _Buir_ ... I've seen something, but I don't know what it means"

It was almost pathetic. She was twenty years old, Jaster had saved her brother and her six years ago, and even then, in situations like this, she could only crash and remember a burning farm and her parents dead on the ground. She couldn't bear the thought of it happening again.

"Tell me what happened and we'll see what we can do," Jaster said, indicating the chair free of armor parts.

As she recounted it, Arla felt increasingly stupid. Everyone knew that Montross hoped to be his father's heir and that Jango made him feel threatened. Even she had that effect from time to time, even if she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in it. But something in the back of her head, a warm, compressive sensation, kept pushing her to explain to her father what was happening to her.

"What prompted you to tell me, _adi'ka_? It seems like a regular exchange between Jango and Montross,” the man commented as he adjusted one of the gauntlets.

"I don’t know. You have the right to ignore what I have told you, but… but I think you should be careful with Montross, especially today. ”

"Some kind of feeling?"

"If it weren't for the impossibility, I could almost guarantee that something is going to happen today. I truly regretted that I can’t be more specific,” replied the girl.

"You are not a _jetti_ , _ad_. You cannot predict the future. But I will be vigilant and try to recognize any strange behavior ”Jaster promised as he picked up his own helmet.

He motioned for her to follow him out of the tent and once outside, Arla went looking for her brother to wish him luck. It was his first mission as a commando, and even if he didn't admit it, he would be nervous. Barely fourteen years old and already with those kinds of responsibilities. For her part, Arla would fly in air support with Montross, which gave her a certain sense of calm. If the man made some kind of hasty decision, she would be the first to know.

As her _buir_ had supposed, the mission seemed like a simple matter. Extract a training group from an enclosure that had been prepared by the natives of the planet. If Arla hadn't had that horrible feeling, she would also have thought it would be a bunch of easy credits. But that was until they saw the weapons carried by these natives, and how they knew perfectly well what they were doing.

"Montross, back off, we can't go in there, it's a trap!" Jaster shouted through the communication channel that only the commanders shared. That included Arla, luckily.

The man ignored it and just kept going, with the entire Vertigo Squad behind him.

Arla had only a few seconds to make up her mind, but it seemed like hours. On one hand, if she disobeyed her group leader and was wrong, it was quite possible that she would be expelled from the _Haat Mado'ade_. But, if she was not mistaken, Montross was leading them directly to their death and the deaths of the Mando’ade that would rescue them. She had to make a decision.

"STOP!" she yelled through her communicator at the entire squad.

Due to inertia and obeying orders, they all stopped, including Montross, although this one recovered much faster than the others.

"What do you think you're doing, girl?" the man scolded her, spinning round in midair.

"What you should have done. Haven't you heard the _Mand’alor_? He said to back down, not to keep moving forward ”

"I am the one giving the orders here."

Arla was still somewhat intimidated by men who were larger than her and who reminded her of the _Kyr'tsad_ , but she swallowed her fear and moved closer to him, trying to show that she was not scared.

"Our _Mand’alor_ has given an order and it must be carried out. Do you intend to disobey? ”

They were silent for a few moments, with the jet-packs on, whose sound was all that could be heard. The rest of the squad hovered around her, not knowing who to follow. Arla knew that if she backed down now she would lose all kind of support she might have had or had gained at the time. She stood still, looking at Montross through the helmet visor, waiting for an answer.

Shouts caught her attention and prevented Arla from hearing the man's response. Instead, she watched as people with _beskar'gam_ appeared among the natives and went to attack Jaster’s company. Arla didn't even think about it when she gave the order.

"We have to get them out of there, fast!"

When she turned, Montross was gone, and Arla decided to think about it once she had put her _buir_ and her men to safety.

Jaster and his company eliminated a dozen of _Kyr'tsad_ before Vertigo Squad got them out of there. Thanks to that distraction, Jango and his men were able to rescue the men who had been caught in the crossfire and return them to the Kordan Defense Force. They got the promised credits and, in record time, everyone was on their ships back to _Manda’yaim_. However, the _supercommands_ , Jaster, Jango, and Arla gathered in the strategy room of one of the ships to discuss what had just happened.

"If it hadn't been for Arla, a lot of us would be dead right now," Jaster began, taking off his helmet and dropping into one of the chairs. "I would say that it is the first thing we need to recognize. _Ad’ika_ , I have no idea what that sixth sense has been, but it has saved us all and I am very grateful for it. We all are ”

Arla also took off her helmet and sat next to her brother.

"I don't know, but I think I'll start paying more attention to it from now on," she replied in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

Silas and Myles were also in the room, as were other of their _buir_ 's closest _supercommands_. It was terrifying to see them so serious, but the situation deserved it. It had become clear that Montross, Jaster's right hand, had not only betrayed them but had attempted to guide them directly into the hands of the Kyr'tsad. That was high treason, and it couldn't be ignored any longer.

“We must be vigilant and locate not only Montross, but what remains of the _Kyr'tsad_. We thought we had got rid of them, but it is clear that we were wrong. And we need to strengthen ourselves. Settle down and create ties. Allies ”Jaster said looking around, demanding the attention of everyone present.

"What does that mean?" asked Kal Skirata, who until then had been silent, leaning against the wall.

"Pay a visit to Duke Kryze and see if that midpoint he spoke about last time is worth it or not," Jaster replied, leaving everyone present so surprised that they were silent, looking at the Mand'alor as if he had gone crazy.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------

As you see, in this turn of events, Arla Fett has a connection with me that was not granted in other versions. It is the first of slight, small changes that will lead us to a very different ending than the one we know.

Please come and settle in, I can assure you this is going to be a long journey.


	2. Obi-wan Kenobi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the second chapter!!! I worked a lot in these, in part because I couldn't believe how many kudos and hits I was receiving. You are truly amazing, I don't know what to say. I'm not happy with this, but I know if I keep reading it, I would end up erasing everything. Sorry for any typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language and I try hard to not make mistakes, but I don't always succeed. Leave comments and kudos if you like it!!
> 
> In the next chapter we are going back to the Mando'ade and the Fett, so stay tuned.

Visions are a common sight for those gifted in the Unifying Force, the part of me that connects the stars and celestial bodies with each other. I like to think that those most likely to have a connection to it are people who have a little more stardust inside them than the rest of the living things in the galaxy. They are neither better nor worse than those who are closer to the Living Force, just different. Both types are necessary for the proper functioning of reality.

Obi-wan Kenobi had more of a star inside him than I ever thought it was possible. I had waited centuries for a person like him. However, younglings like him needed special care, and no one seemed to notice it. During those first years in Obi-wan Kenobi's life few things changed, except for two encounters that had never taken place in that galaxy far, far away.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being a boy of just six years old in a Temple designed for giants was very difficult, although Grandmaster Yoda repeated over and over again that being small had its advantages. Obi-wan had lived between those walls for a lot of time and still didn't find the positive part of not being able to get the cookie jar with the ease of Quinlan or Garen. It was unfair.

However, maybe running away sulking because his friends didn't want to share their sweets with him hadn't been the best idea he'd had that week. Now he was lost, and Master Koth wasn’t going to be happy when she found out. If she found out. Maybe she would forget about him. That way he wouldn't wake up his clanmates when he had those strange dreams that made him wake up crying.

He kept walking down the same corridor where his adventure had begun, hoping to recognize some area that would help him know where he was. It took him a few minutes that seemed like hours, but in the end, he came to a place he did recognize: The Room of a Thousand Fountains.

For a few moments, Obi-wan forgot that he was looking for a way to get back to the crèche, and went into the extensive gardens and green areas of the colossal greenhouse. When he realized he had begun to walk, he already had reached his favorite area, where the hylaian marsh bamboo grew straight and proud. A blanket of soft green grass covered the ground, and small gravel tracks lost themselves among the tall bamboo poles. He entered the green mass following one of the many paths at his disposal, the fear of reprimand forgotten and relegated to the back of his mind.

It was the first time he was there alone, without a master or fellow créchemate, and the idea of having an adventure invited him to advance until he reached a small lake in the middle of the bamboo.

A murmur, as if someone was crying, caught his attention. He turned his head and a few meters away a boy was sitting on a bench, with his legs hunched, his arms resting on his knees, and his face hidden between them. He looked like one of those squishy, soft animals Obi-wan liked to pet, but angry and sad.

He approached him slowly, camouflaging his Force signature so he wouldn't panic and leave, and when he got close enough he dropped onto the unoccupied piece of the stone bench.

"Why are you sad?"

For a few seconds, there was no sign that the boy had heard him, and Obi-wan wondered if he was asleep. Luckily, it didn't take more than a minute for him to turn his head a bit or look at him through thick, wet lashes that betrayed that he had just cried.

"What?"

"I asked you why you are sad" Obi-wan repeated, without looking at him.

I knew that when people looked at him as he tried to speak, they only managed to make him nervous. Many teachers had told him that he had to learn to cope with that deep fear of public speaking, but he had not yet obtained it. He figured that speaking out loud was difficult for other people too, so he had no problem waiting. He studied the little pond and asked himself what kind of animals could live in it.

"I lost a duel" the boy answered after a few seconds.

"Aaaaah, yes, that bothers a lot. But there will be others, right?"

"I suppose. But not one like this. I wanted to show my teacher how much I had improved, and all I have done is give my Padawan brother the reason," replied the boy, hiding his head in his arms again.

"In what did you give him the reason?"

The boy replied, but with his arms so close to his mouth, Obi-wan was unable to hear him.

"I didn't understand you" Obi-wan replied sincerely.

"That he's better than me," the boy repeated, this time pulling his mouth away from the sleeves of his training shirt.

"And why is that so important?"

The boy turned to stare with wide eyes and, for the first time since he had arrived, Obi-wan was able to see his face. He had short hair, with the same color as Tatooine's sand had in the images Master Koth had shown them. His eyes were the same crystalline color as the lake waters before them. But they were such sad eyes that Obi-wan couldn't help but ignore their beauty and focus on seeing how they shone with unshed tears.

"What do you mean with 'why is that so important’? Proving to my teacher that he didn't waste the time training me seems to be quite important for me. Although what can a youngling know about these things. Shouldn't you be in bed? Don't tell me that you escaped from the crèche."

“First of all, I am lost, I didn't escape. And second, that's not what you said."

The boy stared at him, waiting for him to explain himself a little more.

“At first you said that you were angry because you had given the other Padawan the reason, but then you talked about proving to your teacher that he had not wasted time. You can do the second without caring about the first. Master Koth says that it is the natural law that there is always someone better than us. It's not an idea that I like, but I guess it's better to accept it than obsess over it. If there is someone better, what I have to do is keep working to overcome my weakness. Even so, Master Koth says that our first idea as future Jedi Knights is not to be better than another but to be our best version to help those who need it." Obi-wan had heard the same phrases from his crèchemaster so many times that he could already recite them from memory. However, saying them aloud to another person gave them a sense that Obi-wan had not been able to see before.

"Very wise words for a child of ... how old are you?"

"I'm already six years old!" Obi-wan protested at the boy's clear mockery.

"Gee, six years now. In no time you will be a complete Padawan” said the blonde, this time with a slight smile crossing his face.

The lights in his eyes were not the illuminated ones that Obi-wan would have liked to see, but they would have to be enough for now.

"I will be the best Jedi Knight of all time" with the innocence that only a child can have.

"That will have to be seen, little one. By the way, what is your name? This is a too deep conversation for me to leave now without knowing your name."

Obi-wan twisted to be able to look at him in the eyes and bowed slightly, remembering the etiquette classes at the crèche.

"My name is Obi-wan Kenobi"

The boy smiled at him again, and extended his hand, as the elders did, and when Obi-wan took it, he introduced himself.

"I am a Jedi Knight Feemor Grainer, nice to meet you."

The two of them stood for a few seconds with their hands clasped together, enjoying the warmth of the Force that seemed to stir around them, almost as if it was pleased.

"Come on, I'm going to take you back to the crechè before Master Koth goes nuts looking for you," she said as she picked him up and started walking toward the exit.

Obi-wan had not realized how exhausted he was until he put his head on Feemor's shoulder and fell asleep. He did not awaken again until the next morning when Master Koth shook him gently and then gave him an hour of reprimand for disappearing without warning.

However, Obi-wan couldn't stop thinking about the feeling of the Force when he and Feemor had spoken. It had been so nice and soft, like a blanket on a cold night. He knew that this had not been their last meeting.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-wan Kenobi has, in any universe, a gift for making others feel better about themselves with just a handful of words. Even if he didn't know it, that would be a conversation that would haunt Feemor Grainer's mind long after leaving the little boy in the crèche. In our first galaxy, Feemor and Obi-wan had never had a relationship. They had never met, and when Qui-Gon stopped recognizing him as his first Padawan, Feemor wanted nothing to do with his Master.

However, this time, this first meeting will mean for Obi-wan that there is another figure, outside the limits of his usual Masters and crèchemates, with whom he can speak.

Also, not long after, a second meeting would take place. In another universe, it would have taken a long time for them to get to know each other. Here, they will be childhood friends.

\-------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------------

What Obi-wan liked the most were the excursions outside the Temple. Coruscant was not the most beautiful planet in the galaxy, he had seen photos of places like Alderaan and Naboo, but for the little younglings who occasionally came out of the Temple, it was the most impressive place ever.

Obi-wan's favorite place was the Great Library of Coruscant, which stood proudly not far from the Temple. It was huge, though not nearly as large as the Senate Rotunda, and housed the biggest book collection, those with pages and the smell that all old things have, that could be found in the galaxy. Master Nu was a huge fan of them and took every opportunity (such as an excursion) to visit it.

Quinlan and Bruck did not like Master Nu, because they said that she was always looking at them as if they were some kind of little criminals, but Obi-wan enjoyed it when she accompanied them, and he knew that Bant and Siri also liked her. Garen and Reeft preferred to stay on the sidelines and not lean on one side or the other of the discussion.

"Okey. As always, stay together and worry that the person next to you doesn't get lost, understood? ” Master Koth reminded them as Master Nu was already wandering towards the book room.

Obi-wan followed, ignoring Quinlan's complaints, who were soon left behind. He kept walking towards the special door that guarded the books. It was made so the temperature and humidity inside the room were always the same, and it was really difficult to get inside because it only opened on intervals, one time every five minutes.

The boy waited and then went around the room, not only observing the covers of the books but also the paintings and pictures that adorned the walls. It was not the first time they had come, so after a glance to make sure nothing had changed in his absence, he went to sit on the sofa in front of his favorite sculpture.

Huge mythosaurs populated the 3D holo, giving it depth and a sense of movement. Obi-wan had been interested in the creatures and their history since the first time he had seen them and had insisted on Master Nu to tell him the story behind them. It had taken a bit, but in the end, he had convinced her, and together they had spent an entire afternoon between datapads and drawings of those creatures that were almost as big as a city when the were alive. he was still sad that there wasn't any chance to see them face to face. they must have been incredible.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said a voice behind him.

Obi-wan didn't even bother turning around. If it was someone with bad intentions, the Force would have warned him, and it didn't. Besides, he had dreamed of that day. It was the reason why he had been so impatient to be able to leave his companions behind and accompany Master Nu. Something important was supposed to happen here, and he wanted to be there to see it. Some MAsters had told him that he shouldn't believe in his... visions, but Master Yoda said that sometimes it was important to follow the Force and stop listening to old Jedi who didn't know what it was like to be so near to the Unifying Force.

"I suppose. But they no longer exist,” he replied.

The other boy took it as an invitation and sat with him on the sofa, both watching the holo closely.

"That's true. My name is Bail Organa, a pleasure” the boy introduced himself. Was he making another friend? It would be nice to have more friends.

Obi-wan turned this time, studying him with deliberate attention, although he had no idea what he was looking for. He had seen adults do it a lot of times, to be taken more seriously, so he decided to do the same. The only thing he saw was a boy older than himself, probably fourteen or fifteen years old, with clothes that looked very expensive and were very pretty. It shone a lot, his cape, with silver tones everywhere. In an attempt to appear serious, Obi-wan reached out, as the elders did, and introduced himself.

"I am the Initiate Obi-wan Kenobi."

"Nice to meet you. What are you doing here? You are a little bit young to be here alone."

“My clan and I are on an excursion, but I like this room, so I usually stay here. Master Nu is in the chair over there, so there is no problem that they forget about me or I get lost. I'm never truly alone” explained the boy, taking the moment to mention that a responsible adult was nearby in case something strange occurred to him.

“I also really like this room. The library is the only legal site on Coruscant where I can be and where it takes my tutors more than five minutes to find me. ”

"Are you running away from them?" Obi-wan asked, this time a little worried. Was he a bad guy?

"Hmm, not exactly. Let's say that when I'm a little tired of my lessons and classes I try to sneak away for a while,” Bail replied, calming him down.

"And you choose the library to avoid studying?" Obi-wan asked again, this time a little confused by the decision. When Quinlan or Garen wanted to avoid going to class, the library was the last place they stepped on.

“Studying doesn't bother me as much as having to learn a lot of names and dates that don't interest me too much. What good is going to do all that information in my head? I would prefer to understand the cultures where they come from, so I can treat them in the right way and not be rude, but my tutors don't seem to have the same idea of education. Being surrounded by books, real books, calms me. In a library, it is much more than the datapads it keeps. It is a full-blown social experiment. The paintings, the art, the subjects that people decide to study ... everything happens for a reason. I like to find out those reasons. It's fun, and it teaches you to know what to expect from people,” Bail explained with a smile. He seemed very excited, and Obi-wan felt the necessity of listening to him.

"Would you teach me how to do that?"

"To do what? To read people? ”

"Yes, it looks like a lot of fun."

"Well, I would be very honored to teach you that, but I don't think I can go to the Temple and just show you..." said the boy, doubtful.

“You are wrong about that, young Organa. It is not very common, but the Temple library is open to anyone who wants to visit it, and I am sure that Initiate Kenobi would be happy to see you,” interrupted Master Nu, who seemed to have heard the last part of their conversation.

"I thought the Jedi Order was more ..." Bail hesitated, and Obi-wan could see how he vacillated between telling the truth or staying silent.

"Hermetic? Let's say that we need to improve a lot in the public relations department, and I think that you are a perfect starting point. Here.” Master Nu handed him a piece of film with what looked like a comm-code. "Think about it and, if you want, you can contact me there."

"Thank you very much, Master," Bail replied, bowing slightly.

“It has been a pleasure, dear. Initiate, it's time to go. Say goodbye ”said the Master before turning around and starting to walk towards the exit.

Obi-wan also got up and looked at his new friend, who seemed more than surprised.

"Don't worry, she may be a bit rough, but she's a good person," said the kid, with a smile on his lips.

"I believe you," replied the teenager. Then he turned a little more towards Obi-wan to speak directly to him. "I'll contact you as soon as I can, okay? If it takes a while, don't worry, I have a lot of things to attend to.”

"Lots of boring names to learn."

"That too. You are a very smart boy, Obi-wan. ”

"Like everyone, I suppose," the boy replied in farewell before Master Nu called him again.

He walked away fast and with his body a little twisted so he could say goodbye to Bail for as long as possible.

\-------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------------

Do you know that moment when you make friends in the most unexpected corners? Sometimes they are best friends. Others say important people arrive exactly when they are needed, but that is not true. Sometimes they don't come, like Feemor. Sometimes they are too late, like Bail. On this occasion, the galaxy and I conjured so they were at the right time in the right place. 

My little boy, made of stardust and moonshine, was not free from suffering, because every creature in the galaxy has to endure their fair share of bad calls and horrible luck, but Obi-wan didn't deserve to see all the people he loved die in his arms.

No one deserves that.


	3. Jango Fett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!! I hope I can keep the "one chapter a week", at least while I don't have to go back to college. I hope you like it. I still getting comfortable with the Mando'a, so is possible that I don't know how to work with it really well, but I promise that I'm working on it. Leave comments and kudos, and tell me what you think!!!
> 
> Note of the note: wtf, I already have more than 100 people following this story, I really can't believe that there are so many readers interest in my story. Thank you very much!!!!!!

_Manda’yaim_. Mandalore. The perfect balance between hard desert plains and lush forests full of life. Not many of those born there or on one of its moons usually perceive me clearly, but those who do are usually connected to me with unusual strength.

Sometimes that connection manifests itself since they are very young. In most, however, it takes a long time for them to realize that hunches are more than that. Arla Fett needed to be close to death twice to understand that she was more than lucky.

Then there was only the deepest terror and a brother who did not understand what was happening.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The arrival of the _Mand’alor_ to his home was transformed into a political and mass act as soon as the ships carrying the _Haat Mando’ade_ landed. Jango knew this as soon as they came down and saw the head of the Kryze clan ready to receive them. From the moment they stepped on land, the looks began. Every movement, every breath. Jango felt like he was drowning inside his _buy’ce_ , but Arla's hand on his shoulder managed to calm him down enough that he was able to properly greet Adonai Kryze. Afterward, he was only able to look around.

It was the first time he was in Sundari and, although the exterior did not have spectacular landscapes (although the endless deserts that surrounded it were imposing in their own right), the dome that surrounded it was enough to surprise any first arrived. For Jango, nothing would ever be better than Keldabe, but the city of the New Mandalorians deserved the recognition it received throughout the galaxy.

"Do you think that _buir_ will manage to reach an agreement with these people?" Jango asked under his breath to his _ori’vod_.

"Don't worry, everyone can find common ground if they try hard enough, and your _buir_ is willing to sweat out trying," replied Myles instead of Arla.

He must not have spoken as softly as he would have liked.

"I suppose," he replied and kept looking at the dome as black as some of the moons Jango had seen throughout the galaxy.

"Would you like that we show you the city?" asked a girl in front of them that, for the tension he could see in the shoulders of the rest of the _Mando’ade_ , nobody had seen appear.

"Bo! I told you not to go near them! ” A blonde girl who looked a little older than the other appeared next to the redhead.

Jango watched them both closely. They wore dresses that seemed difficult to put on, instead of the armor that their protectors or even the Duke wore. The little girl, with red hair tied at the top of her head, seemed considerably more uncomfortable than the blonde girl who appeared a little later. The second moved with her head high and her chin raised as if she felt superior to everyone around her.

Jango disliked her from that moment, and he doubted his opinion would change soon.

“Leave me alone, Satine, I'm making friends! I know it doesn't sound familiar to you, but I don't care. Ignore my _ori’vod_ \- “

"Big sister, Bo."

" _Ori’vod_ , she doesn't know how to have a good time. My name is Bo-Katan Kryze, but you can call me Bo, almost everyone does. What is your name?”

Jango turned his head to Arla, seeking confirmation, although he felt stupid as soon as he realized what he was doing. He was fourteen years old now, he should be able to make those decisions alone. However, seeing his _ori’vod_ nod made him feel better. They both took off their _buy’ce_ and turned back to the Kryze sisters.

"I am Arla Fett and this is my _vod’ika_ , Jango Fett. From the _aliit_ Fett and Mereel.”

" _Olarom_ ," Bo told them. "Are you coming then?"

The two Fetts turned to their buir for an answer, and Jango would never confess the joy he felt seeing Jaster nod and let them go. Diplomatic talks, as much as Jango liked to pretend he was older, were boring and slow. He and Arla followed the other two girls and soon were on their way to an elevator that led them to a huge garden that covered several different rooftops.

The trees and plants chosen for the different sections contrasted sharply with the desert exterior Jango had just seen. Some of those flowers demanded almost constant vigilance and a good quantity of water. Many of them were not even original from Manda’yaim. Fountains marked the backbone of flower arrangements and the organization of flower beds. For each fountain, about four sections were divided to make room for other corridors, made with blue tiles, which played to resemble the water of the fountains.

Jango tried to like what he was seeing, but there was so much order within a space that was supposed to imitate the natural that he could only feel uncomfortable. No, it was not the order, it was the multiple perfect angles and straight lines that marked the style of the space. There was no room for growth, nor for plants to decide for themselves. They were ... Jango knew that if he said it out loud he would sound stupid, but it almost seemed like the flowers were locked up.

“There is the Academy, where Satine goes almost every day, although it seems like a bummer to me. And a little further there is the royal palace, which is a little for everything. We live there, but _buir_ also receives people in it. I'm going to school over there, on the other side of where the Academy is, luckily” Bo explained as she pointed to each of the places she named.

She was adorable, and Jango could almost see Arla melt at the girl's bright, intelligent personality. On the other hand, Satine didn't seem so happy with the situation. She devoted herself to look at the plants and ignoring them as much as possible. Jango endured it for almost half an hour, focusing on Bo's chatter until he was unable to continue ignoring her.

"Hey, do you have a problem with us?"

"Jango ..."

"No, I want to know, because this _shabuir_ has not stopped looking at us badly since we arrived" the boy insisted.

"Jango, that mouth! There are _adiik_ present. You have barely stopped being one, please behave yourself,” Arla reprimanded before turning her attention to Bo, who was hitting one of her gauntlets to get her attention.

"What is _shabuir_?"

"A word you shouldn't repeat, okay?"

Bo pouted, and Jango knew very well that she was not going to listen, but the girl said nothing more. Instead, she focused on listening to her _ori’vod's_ response.

“Well, yes, when your type shows up, you only create problems for father and the rest of the New Mandalorians. No one wants you. You have gone out of style, but you don't seem to notice. The Republic and the Senate want us, not you, and behaving in such a primitive way you will only get us all into trouble. Then the New Mandalorians will have to fix it. Don't you realize?” Satine said all at once as if she had been practicing it even before they arrived.

From what Jango had seen, it was as possible an option as any other.

"Problems? Come now. All you do, you and your stupid non-violence policy, is that the _Mando’ade_ lose all kinds of meaning and culture. Everything in the _Mando’ade_ is organized around the battle, the fight! You cannot eliminate it because you want some pacifist _Mando’ade_. That's pathetic!" Jango countered, catching up to Satine, using the inches he had more than her to look much bigger.

"Pathetic? I'll tell you what's pathetic, stupid- "

"Satine, enough" the Duke interrupted.

Jango could feel the color disappear from his face when he realized that his _buir_ and the Duke were there, a few steps from them and that he did not know how long they had been there, nor what they had heard.

"Do you know what is pathetic?" Jaster began while stroking the petals of a nearby flower. "Pathetic is your discussion as soon as you started talking about 'us' and 'you'. That the decisions of some are more correct than those of others. This is how conflicts begin, thinking that one is more right than the other. There are times when it is clear that some ideas are not correct, and the _demagolkas_ who defend them deserve nothing but death, but this is not the case. We are _Mando’ade_ from the moment we consider ourselves Mandalorians, as they say throughout the galaxy. How we express it, that is in our hands.”

Jaster approached Satine, and knelt in front of her, taking off the _buy’ce_ so that the girl could see his face. It was something he did often, to gain the trust of the adiik he encountered. With Jango, he did it a lot when he got nervous or wanted to do things without thinking.

“I understand your point of view, but sometimes pacifism, neutrality, is also positioning yourself, and not always on the right side. You buir and I have been talking, and we have reached an agreement. We have both had to give in on some things, but that does not mean that our ways of living are wrong. The _Mando’ade_ must show a united front, especially now that the _Kyr'tsad_ is a threat to all. You understand?" Jaster asked her, and the tone showed that he was sincerely interested in the girl's response.

"Yes, but it still seems bad to me that you go around spreading the stereo ... stereo ..."

"Stereotype?"

"That, that the _Mando’ade_ do not know how to do anything other than fight," replied Satine, with a pout on her lips.

"I understand your concern, and I will not consider your opinion less valid, even if it is different from mine. This is how the galaxy works, _adiik_. Everyone needs to learn to give in, or else no conflict would ever end, no matter how many pacifists there are in the universe.”

Satine was thoughtful but said nothing more. The Duke and Jaster guided them toward a pair of speeders who led them all to the royal palace.

"We'll be here for a couple of days, okay? Make yourself comfortable,” his buir told them before turning around and leaving.

Arla and Jango nodded, although Jaster could no longer see them, and followed a couple of men, who didn’t wear _beskar’gam_ , that led them to their rooms. They had given each one to them, something more and more common since Arla had said that yes, she loved her _vod’ika_ very much, but she was tired of sharing a room with him. Jango had not been offended because, to be honest, he did not want to continue sharing his room with Arla either.

They separated and promised to leave in about an hour to meet their buir. He showered and looked at the bed for a few seconds, before thinking that yes, he deserved a nap, so he lay down on the sheets, not bothering to cover himself, and fell asleep. An hour later, an almost frantic knock on the door woke him up.

"Jango! You finally wake up. Jaster wants to see us, he says it's important that he talk to us before dinner,” said Arla when the boy opened the door, still half asleep and putting de armor on himself with weak and exhausted fingers.

Jango followed her down the hall to one of the first doors they had seen. It was similar to theirs but somewhat taller, and with _beskar_ decorations that theirs did not have. Arla knocked on the door hard, and a few seconds later Jaster opened it and let them pass.

His _buir_ was not wearing his _buy’ce_ , and his face, although he maintained a calm expression, had certain traces of the tension that had accompanied him since the disaster in Korda Six. He made them sit in the small room adjoining the bedroom, and stared at them for a moment before speaking.

“The Duke and I have talked at length while you were seeing on the gardens, and he is ready to present a united front against the _Kyr'tsad_. He must still consult with the rest of the clans within the New Mandalorians, but he believes that this split has lasted too long. Once we have agreed on a truce between factions, we will sit down and talk about what we can do so that the rest of the _Mando’ade_ does not feel compelled to choose one way of life or another. It's not fair. Which leads me to tell you why I called you here before going to dinner. I need you to behave your best. We are not at home and therefore the rules we play by are not ours. We need the help of the New Mandalorians if we want the _Kyr'tsad_ to leave us alone once and for all. I know you will not disappoint me, but I wanted to remind you” Jaster finished speaking.

"With our best behavior, you mean ..."

"No, Jango, you can't argue with Satine again."

Jango knew already what would be his answer, but testing had not harmed.

"Okeyyyy"

Arla and Jaster laughed at him before getting up and heading to the huge dining room of the royal palace. This was going to be a very long dinner.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smoothing things over with people who share your roots, but not your way of doing things is much more complicated than it might seem. Sometimes leaders don't know how to give up the ground needed to reach an agreement. This time, at least we know that Jango will have the opportunity to learn to be _Mand’alor_ from a man who knows how to give in when he needs it. Jaster Mereel will be a fundamental piece, not only in the life of Jango Fett but also in the life of my little star.

My little star, hidden in a Temple on the other side of the galaxy, unaware that I can protect him from many things, but not everything. Sorry, Obi-wan Kenobi, for not being able to save you from all the suffering of your previous life. Some things must happen, whether I want to or not.

I’ll see you when you get to the other side of your Initiate years. I know you’ll do it fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haat Mando'ade: True Mandalorians  
> Mand'alor: leader  
> Buir: father  
> oir'vod: big brother or sister  
> vod'ika: little brother or sister  
> Olarom: Welcome  
> Buy'ce: helmet  
> Aliit: family, clan  
> Shabuir: stupid  
> adiik: children from 3 to 13 years old  
> Mando'ade: children of Mandalore. Mandalorians  
> Demagolka: a horrible person, a monster  
> Beskar’gam: armor  
> Kyr'tsad: Death watch


	4. Quinlan Vos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!!! And I'm working on a new idea that I got this morning, so maybe soon I'll be posting something about it. I realized that I didn't say it, so I'm telling you that if you want to come and scream or talk to me about star wars, my fics, or any other thing, I have a Tumblr: @morganiswriting. I usually write random thoughts on it, but I'd love to talk to all of you.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter. Please, leave comments and any constructive critic. Thank you for reading!!!

Obi-wan Kenobi's childhood always had its lights and shadows, but his friends were there, and that would not change, even if it was a new universe. Garen Muln, Bant Eerin, Siri Tachi, or Quinlan Vos. Good friends, who tried to counter the evil that people like Bruck Chun or Aalto caused. What a different world a bunch of friends makes.

Obi-wan's life as an Initiate was not easy. Still, it served to gradually transform him into one of the most promising Padawans of his generation.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Things never went the way Quinlan Vos wanted. It was scientifically proven. He was sure that everything turned out just the opposite of what he had expected when he planned something. That was one of the reasons he rarely planned anything. Interestingly, the center of the vast majority of incidents was Obi-wan Kenobi. Quinlan was starting to get sick of saving him.

"How did you end up at the fountain?" he asked as he pulled him into The Halls of Healing. If Healer Che didn't see him soon, he would probably end up with an incredible cold or something worse.

"I fell."

"Obi, you are very clumsy, but not that much. Chun pushed you again?"

The silence that followed his question made it clear that he was right.

"You can't let him keep doing this to you, Obi, you have to tell someone! And with the duel so near, that must be him trying to get you sick so you can't participate."

His friend remained silent, with his head down, and Quinlan could only snort at the situation. How many years had they been like this? Too many, he would say, in case anyone was interested in his opinion. Usually, people weren't.

"Come on, come on, let's go see Healer Che," Quinlan said. He turned around and saw how Obi-wan, whose skin was already quite light, became even whiter. Just thinking about spending even one minute in The Halls of Healing. "I will not take no for an answer. now move, come on."

The kiffar kept walking, but a few meters later, he realized that his friend was trying to slow down his progress as much as possible. He turned quickly, so that the other had no time to react, and took him as if he were a bag of Corellian potatoes. He placed him over his shoulder, and only then was he able to advance more than a meter every five minutes.

"Quinlan, what the... Put me down right now!"

It was true that Quinlan had recently turned thirteen and was quite developed, but carrying Obi-wan wasn't exactly exhausting. Anyone was massive compared to Obi-wan, except Master Yoda. Picking him up and walking what the last meters of the hallway was not a too demanding physical activity.

"Padawan Quinlan Vos, what, exactly, are you doing?" Healer Che asked as soon as she saw him enter the door.

"Good night! I bring you a patient. About fifteen minutes ago, I found him in one of the fountains taking a wonderful bath. I'm sure he enjoyed it if it wasn't because it's icy outside, and here my friend seems not to notice it."

"Quin..."

"Since you won't tell me how you got in the fountain, I had to improvise," he replied to the dirty look that Obi-wan dedicated to him.

"It's not that bad. I just tripped."

"Sure, and now the banthas can fly."

"Padawan Vos, if you are going to bother my patient, I will have to ask you to leave," Healer Che interrupted.

Quinlan fell silent but did not stop looking at his friend. He was sure it had been Bruck. It was always Bruck. But Obi-wan never said anything. Quinlan did not have enough evidence to go to the Council and deal with the matter personally. Perhaps Master Tholme could advise him what to do; he would have to ask him later.

He stood there while Healer Che checked on Obi-wan and covered him in blankets until the only thing visible was the bush of red hair. His friend jerked a bit until the sheets only covered him up to his nose, and Quinlan was sure he had only done so to send him a mean look at him. Obi-wan settled down until he was sprawled on the bed, protected by his blankets cocoon.

"You will sleep here, Initiate Kenobi. Tomorrow we will see if you are well or need to spend a few days here," Healer Che announced. "You better beg the Force to be in perfect condition, or I'll have you locked up for a couple of ten-days."

"Understood, Healer Che," Obi-wan answered, already half asleep.

Quinlan stayed there for a while, accompanying his friend until he was sure that he was asleep. When they were younger, Obi-wan always had trouble sleeping. He was afraid that if he closed his eyes, horrible scenes of a possible future that neither he nor anyone else understood would appear before him. Both he and Bant had spent many nights sharing a bed with Obi so that he could rest, and even then, maybe he would wake up screaming.

He thought of leaving, but those memories of moments that were not so distant in time made him send a message to his Master to inform him that he would stay there. Healer Che returned shortly after and allowed him to use the cot next to Obi-wan's to sleep. Surprisingly, the first part of the night went well. Quinlan had fallen asleep and had been in the dream world for hours when a scream woke him up.

The scene that welcomed him into the real world was one of the worst he had ever witnessed in his short life and would not easily forget.

Obi-wan was writhing on the mattress. All the blankets that had wrapped him up were lying on the floor around the bed. The boy was screaming with all his might as if he were being tortured. His eyes were open, but it was clear that he was still within the vision, unable to wake up. Quinlan did not even consider notifying a healer. He supposed Obi-wan's screams would be enough warning.

Instead, he got up and quickly approached his friend. He got behind him and hugged Obi tightly, trying to pin him down to stop him from hurting himself. Obi-wan's nails were bloody, from scratching his arms and scalp as if trying to clean something.

"Obi, Obi, please come back. It is me, Quinlan, what you are seeing is not real, you are safe," the boy whispered, trying to calm him down.

"Quin?"

"Ssshhh, calm down, I'm here, nothing happens."

"Quin, you don't know what I've seen, you have to stop it, it's a massacre, Quin," Obi-wan repeated, still with his eyes unfocused.

"First, you have to calm down, and then you can tell me what you have seen. I promise I will help you as well as I can, but you have to take a deep breath, and someone has to look at those cuts," Quinlan replied, undoing the hug and giving him a little more freedom of movement.

Healer Che came in just a few seconds later, and she took care of the wounds herself. Not without first, of course, looking at him as if he was to blame for everything.

"What happened?" she asked as she continued to put bacta on the most severe cuts.

"A nightmare," Obi-wan replied quickly before Quinlan could say anything.

Vokara Che left shortly after, looking at them suspiciously. She threatened that if they didn't call her at the slightest trouble, she would lock them up in the Halls of Healing until they were twenty. As soon as she was out of sight, Quinlan looked at Obi-wan, demanding an explanation.

"Now tell me what you have seen, and without lies. You know I have my ways to find out the truth," Quinlan warned.

"I have had a vision."

Quinlan wanted to make a sarcastic remark about the obvious and unnecessary specification, but he held back. Making fun of someone who had just awakened from a terrifying experience was not pleasant or intelligent.

"It was like… it was almost like when I was seven, and I couldn't stop seeing the Temple burning, but worse. The Force was filled with a feeling like a rush. As if it were urgent," the boy explained without looking up from his hands.

The kiffar remained silent and waited for him to put his thoughts in order.

"It was some kind of conflict. A betrayal? No, not exactly," he said, more to himself than to Quinlan. "At least not completely. It was more like a misunderstanding. There were Mandalorians, I recognized their armors. And there were Jedi, too."

"I didn't know we were having trouble with Mandalorians," Quinlan commented, sitting up in his own bed and crossing his legs. Getting comfortable and giving Obi-wan space.

"That's the problem. I don't recall any kind of active conflict with the Mandalorians in which the Jedi are involved. And it was a massacre, Quin. I have to stop it, and I know it won't be long before it happens."

"What do you suggest we do?" Quinlan asked.

"What?"

"Did you think I was going to let you do this alone? I am sorry to disappoint you, but you are not going to be able to get rid of me," said the kiffar.

Obi-wan stared at him for a moment, and Quinlan could see his expression of disbelief. Sometimes it worried him that, no matter how many years passed, Obi-wan still didn't believe people were willing to help him. He wanted to be like the legends' goddesses, who carried the world's weight on their shoulders.

"The first thing is to get a datapad with access to the Holo-net and the Temple's net. It is necessary to look in the archives, where we can see which missions are scheduled for the following months that have to do with Mandalorians. From there, we will see," replied Obi-wan.

"Well, that's easy."

In less than ten minutes, Quinlan had secured two datapads, and they were already deep in their search. Two hours had passed when a mission summary finally caught Quinlan's eye.

"It says here that the Governor of Galidraan has requested the help of the Jedi regarding some Mandalorians. He says that the latter has attacked part of the population," Quinlan explained, reading the mission report.

"How did you get to that document?"

"You are not the only good slicer of this group of friends, Obi."

"OK, OK. Let me see it."

Quinlan handed him the datapad and continued reading over his shoulder.

"Master Dooku? And he says they'll take a dozen more knights with him. That's strange," Quinlan observed.

"They have no thought or attempt to speak. Master Dooku and the others will directly reduce the threat," Obi said in a tone that made his disbelief clear.

A deeply buried part of Quinlan wanted to defend the Council and think they had reasons for commanding so many Jedi. Some part of him that was a thirteen-year-old boy wanted to believe that the Council was usually right, but he couldn't be fooled. The mission's report and decisions sounded hasty and only based on the governor's request.

"They haven't bothered to investigate. The first and only team that will travel to Galidraan will be the Master Dooku intervention team. Let me see who else is going," Obi-wan asked him.

They kept going down the document until they reached the list of knights.

"Feemor Grainer. It can't be," Obi-wan whispered.

"Do you know him?" Quinlan asked.

"Yes. Sometimes Feemor helps me to meditate in the Room of the Thousand Fountains. He's helping me prepare for the duel with Bruck next week," Obi-wan explained as he continued reading.

"And what do you plan to do?"

"Ask for help."

"Help to?"

"To get to Galidraan before Master Dooku. The mission is scheduled to leave in two days. If I get going tomorrow, I'll be able to get there before they do and warn the Mandalorians," Obi-wan explained as if it were obvious.

"Obi, you know I love it when you ignore any kind of order and do what you think is right, but this is too much even for you. By the Force, it's too much, even for me. Also, Knight Grainer is not going to help you carry out a clearly suicidal mission. Even more importantly, you wouldn't be able to be back for the duel with Bruck."

"If I don't, thousands of innocent Mandalorians will die. I've seen it, Quinlan. I have seen the suffering, the pain, the anger. If I let this happen, a lot of lives will have been lost, but it will mark something more important than a battle. I don't know how to explain it to you. I only know that this is what I should do and that I will do it, with you or without you", affirmed Obi-wan, without a doubt.

"And the duel?" repeated Quinlan, trying to make him see reason.

"I would be lying if I said that I don't care. Is my last opportunity to get a master, but I won't be able to live with myself if I knew that thousands would die, and I didn't do anything. Because of a duel. That's not a Jedi behavior."

That was his favorite version of his friend. Few people could see this version of him under all the layers of the perfect Initiate that desperately needed to be chosen as a Padawan. The Obi-wan ready to kriff the rules to save lives.

"Count on me. I'm not going to let you have all the fun."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi-wan's description of the Battle of Galidraan was perfect. Bloody, cruel, and full of darkness. Yan Dooku was never the same man again after that, and neither was Jango Fett. But we all know that there are small changes already underway, much more powerful than a vision. Obi-wan's intervention may or may not work, but we all know that a Starbird flutter on the other side of the galaxy can change much more than any Jedi. You just need to be in the right place at the right time.


	5. Jaster Mereel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm a little earlier this week becauseeeeee, I hope that for the end of the week I'll have the first chapter of my other WIP and I've thinking how to work both at once. So, I decided to post Little talks on Tuesdays and the other one on Fridays. What do you think?? 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It's heavily inspired by other fics, for example:
> 
> -Mandokarla and other thing Obi-Wan has, by @ sparkly_seagull  
> -Always in motion is the future, by @ weekendschild
> 
> Those are the ones that I'm able to find right now, but there are more. Anyway, this ones are incredible, and if you haven't read them yet, you should.
> 
> Leave comments if you like the chapter!!

At first, I guess it was fun, to feel, but not too much. I have never been able to know the feeling of joy, sadness, or cruelty. I don't know if the consciousness was mine, or if I simply borrowed it from all those beings I live in. In the same way that I am the galaxies, the dust released every time a star dies. I am also all the beings that inhabit them. Who feel, and love, and cry. All of their feelings were mine, the same way I was all of them at once. I tell myself this because sometimes I need to feel that I am more than a revered entity amidst both myth and legend.

Jaster Mereel shared, in more ways than one, those feelings.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being  _ Mand'alor  _ was as hard as the  _ beskar _ in his armor, and much more burdensome. The self-control that his position demanded, the commitment, had twisted and changed Jaster Mereel until making him almost unrecognizable. Sometimes he looked in the mirror when he took off his  _ buy'ce _ , and he had trouble recognizing the man who was looking back at him. And it was missions like the one they were carrying out in Galidraan that he felt took more years off his life.

"Tired,  _ 'alor _ ?" Kal Skirata asked from the other side of the command table they were sitting at.

" _ 'Lek _ , Kal. This is taking much more time than we had originally planned."

It was true. Eliminating the rebels that the Governor had targeted had not been difficult. Still, it was beginning to seem that the man had a particular interest in keeping them there. Arla didn't feel uncomfortable, either, as she had told him already. She couldn't explain why she thought that the Governor of Galidraan had motives far darker than a few rebels, but she knew that something was wrong.

Although his  _ ad'ika  _ had become better at identifying what her hunches were referring to, they were still vague feelings that did not help them in a situation like this. They would have to do it the old way. Above all, because the Governor also had their payment for the work already done kidnapped.

"I'm going to go talk to him. If there is nothing more to do and pays us at once, we will leave tomorrow at night," announced Jaster before leaving the tent where he had prepared the command center.

He hadn't even walked five minutes before Arla caught up with him, breathing hard and the  _ buy'ce  _ under one of her arms instead of on her head. Her pupils dilated, and her cheeks reddened from the effort. For a moment, Jaster believed she had been attacked. He quickly dismissed it, realizing that she would have screamed for help if that had been the case. Or she would have eliminated the threat. Yeah, more like the second option. Instead, she had reached him, grabbed his arm, and was now pulling towards the opposite end of the camp.

"Arla?  _ Ad'ika _ , slow down, where are we going?" he asked without success. Arla kept moving until he bent down behind some bushes and she pointed at a corner of the place, near a clearing.

Two intruders with hoods covering their faces were silently approaching the camp, unnoticed by the few guards stationed so far away from the main parts of the camping ground.

" _ Jettise _ ? But what are they doing here?" He mumbled before reaching his full height, the  _ dha'kad  _ in one hand and a blaster in the other.

" _ Buir _ , wait."

Jaster turned to look at her, confused. It was not that the  _ Haat'ade  _ had had significant problems with the Jettise in recent years. Still, they indeed were not friends, even less when they tried to sneak into their camp without being seen.

"I think they have no bad intentions. Take that into account, okay?" Arla asked, just before Jaster came forward.

The two figures quickly realized that their _di'kutla_ _ jetti  _ tricks didn't work with him, more if he knew they were trying to use them. The taller one stepped in front of the younger, and only then did Jaster recognize that the little one must be no more than an  _ adiik _ . He held his weapons up high but did not rush to attack them as he had initially thought. The adult had not removed the  _ jetti'kad _ from his holster and only stood between him and the  _ adiik _ , protecting him. Always protecting, not attacking.

" _ Tion'ad cuyir gar? _ " he demanded to know, trying first in  _ Mando'a  _ to see if they understood him.

" _ Ner gai cuyir Obi-wan Kenobi _ ," replied the boy, in a nefarious but understandable accent.

Jaster was as surprised as the _c_ __a_ bur,  _ who turned the head to look at his young companion. The  _ adiik  _ spoke again, removing his hood.

"Sorry, I haven't had time to learn much more  _ Mando'a _ , and Knight Grainer doesn't know how to speak it either."

Jaster Mereel had a soft spot for  _ adiike _ . Still, those aquamarine eyes, gazing at him with hope and naivety he rarely saw now, made him melt. The short curly chin-length red hair, combined with the pale complexion, made the  _ adiik _ , apparently delicate, look like a tooka puppy. The other man also removed his hood, revealing a mass of blond hair and eyes as blue as the kyber crystals of some  _ jetti'kads _ . The man put a hand on the adiik's shoulder, and they both waited for Jaster to speak.

"What are two  _ jettise _ like you doing here? What do you want?" he asked, making it clear that it was an order and not a request.

"Are you the  _ Mand’alor _ , Jaster Mereel?"

Jaster thought for a moment before nodding. He had no time to waste.

"I am. What do you want of me?"

"I have information that may mean if all your people die or survive, but you must be willing to listen to me," replied the  _ adiik _ .

Jaster considered his options for a few seconds. Believing an unknown  _ adiik _ he had just caught trying to sneak into his camp would be problematic. Not just any  _ adiik  _ but also one of the  _ jettise  _ that  _ Mando'ade  _ wasn't very fond of. But if what he had to say was right and he did not listen, his people would die, and he could never forgive himself.

"Okay. Put your hoods back on, keep your head down and follow me" he ordered them before turning and starting to walk towards Arla's tent.

He motioned for his  _ ad'ika  _ to follow, then quickened his pace.

Arla's shelter was farther from the center of the camp. Much of her team was busy doing other things, so it was the perfect place to pass quickly and without being noticed. Once they were safe, both he and Arla sat down, Jaster in the only chair and his  _ ad,  _ this time with the _ buy'ce  _ covering her head _ , _ on the bed. The  _ jetti _ and the  _ jet'ika _ stood, took off their hoods, and waited for Jaster to signal that they could speak.

" _ Mand'alor _ , this mission is a trap. In less than a day, a team of Jedi will arrive with the mission to stop you at all costs. The Governor has betrayed you and has asked the Order for help. He said you are attacking the population of the planet, and so you must be stopped at all costs," explained the boy to him as if he knew too well what he was talking about.

"The Jedi strike force is not going to ask questions. They come to fulfill their mission because they think that the accusations are real, and they have no reason to doubt the Governor," specified the blond.

The next time the  _ adiik  _ spoke, his tone of voice demanded attention. His pupils sparkled as if behind them unknown energy writhed, desperate to get out. It was a tone and a look that Jaster had only seen from a few commandos and himself after coming out of battles they didn't count on winning.

"I have seen the end of this battle if you decide to carry on,  _ Mand'alor _ , and you will gain nothing but pain and the blood of your comrades on the battlefield. Only living dead will come out of it, empty shells that will no longer be Commandos. They will simply be ghosts."

Jaster wasn't especially given to believe in the magical stuff of the  _ jetti _ . However, his readings and travels had taught him that there was always some kind of truth behind every idea. Furthermore, Arla seemed inclined to believe every word that came out of the  _ adiik's _ mouth. With the  _ buy'ce  _ on, it was more difficult to tell. Still, the slight tilt of the head to the left, the arms resting on the knees and the body leaning forward, gave away that she believed him. Nevertheless, he needed a direct answer, not only  _ jetti _ _ kebise _ .

"Do you have proof of all this? How do you know this is going to happen? More importantly, how do we know that this is not the trap?" Jaster asked. One was never too sure of anything, and even if he was inclined to believe them, he needed to see if they had any hidden intentions.

"Within the Force, there are different kinds of… manifestations, so to speak. The Living Force, for example, maintains a special connection between all those living creatures in the galaxy," spoke the elder.

"I have a somewhat complicated connection to the Unifying Force, which some might say is more dangerous and less useful than the Living one. It connects the present with the future, and, through visions, it allows me to know possible events that will happen soon," continued the  _ adiik _ .

"And that Unifying Force is the one that sent you the vision, right? Why would the Force want to help us, considering that we don't get along particularly well with the  _ Jettise _ ?" Arla asked, speaking for the first time, and surprising everyone, the  _ Jettise _ and Jaster.

"The history of the Order and Mandalore is not the best or the happiest, but that does not mean we want to be the culprits of a massacre," countered the blonde. He was hurt by the possible connotations of what Arla has said.

"We cannot evacuate the camp in a single day, not without raising suspicions. Also, I have to explain all of this to my commandos, who aren't as forgiving as I am. What would you do?" Jaster asked before the  _ jetti _ and Arla got into an argument that wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"We could distract them. Hold up the mission until you are gone," suggested the older  _ jetti _ .

"You won't expect us to let you go when this could potentially be a trap, right?" Jaster replied.

"Feemor could distract them. After all, the only one who shouldn't be in Galidraan it's me. I'll stay. That would assure you that this is not a trap, and the intervention team would not find out that I was here. Then you can send the coordinates to Feemor, and he can come to pick me up," suggested the  _ adiik _ .

Jaster had to admit that the  _ jet'ika _ was brave. Being alone in a camp full of enemies was not an experience anyone wanted to live. Still, there he was, offering himself as if it were not so bad.

"Obi-wan, if you think I'm going to leave you here..." said the blonde, Feemor, before Arla cut him off.

"If this is not a trap, there is nothing to fear. We promise to return him to you safe and sound as long as you give us enough time to get out of here. Suppose what you have said turns out to be accurate. This  _ adiik  _ would have saved us from being eliminated from the galaxy. In that case, there will be no safer place for Obi-wan in the entire universe than this camp. "

The  _ jetti _ still didn't seem convinced, and Jaster couldn't blame him either. If the situation were reversed, he would not leave his  _ adiik _ in charge of the enemy. Still, it was not Jaster who was in that position.

"Obi-wan, if this is because you think your life is less important than mine, you know what I think about it," threatened the blond.

"It's not that; it's just that it's more useful for everyone to do so. We save ourselves problems and avoid a mistake that would remain in the history books for generations," explained the  _ adiik _ , then giggled, as if he was telling an excellent joke.

He liked this  _ adiik  _ more and more. Obi-wan, right?

"So, I think it's all clear. The  _ jetti _ can leave a comm to contact him, and he can go to where he came from. You,  _ jet'ika _ , are coming with us. We have a room full of anxious commandos who are going to want an explanation of why we are withdrawing from this planet so quickly. Arla, go warning and give the signal to pick everything up," Jaster announced before moving.

"One second." The  _ jetti _ knelt in front of the  _ adiik _ , cupping his face in his hands. He then moved a hand, took a comm, gave it to the  _ jet'ika _ , and reframed his face. "If anything happens, and by that I mean anything, let me know. Don't even think about trying to fix it on your own, have I explained myself well? "

The  _ adiik _ nodded, but if Jaster knew anything about children, was that they pretended like no one else when they wanted to be left alone.

"Yes, Feemor, I promise to let you know if everything goes wrong. Have a little faith in me, okay? I am already thirteen years old; I am not a child," complained the  _ jett'ika _ .

The blond let out a sigh, and with one last warning look at Jaster and Arla, he left the tent. His  _ ad _ also went out seconds later, shouting orders and putting all the people who were in her way and were not essential for other things to work.

"Well,  _ jett'ika _ , it seems that we are left alone. Are you going to tell me now why you are so interested in avoiding this battle? You don't know us at all, and until a few minutes ago, I didn't expect a  _ jetti _ to feel compassion for any  _ Mando'ad _ . What do you get out of all this?" Jaster asked. He needed to hear the  _ adiik's  _ true intentions, the ones that not even his  _ cabur  _ knew.

The  _ Mand'alor _ took off the  _ buy'ce _ , hoping that Obi-wan would interpret it as trust, and waited. The  _ adiik _ pierced him with its blue gaze, watching him with almost unnatural temperance.

"Do you know how many nights I have dreamed of this battle? Only two, but both seemed eternal. It was watching innocent people die in horrible ways, and seeing how those who were left behind, those who preserved life, were never the same again. The Force… The Force conveyed a feeling of heaviness as if this were the beginning of the end. I don't know what it means, but it has sent me these visions for something, and I'm not going to let anyone die because I didn't say anything or wasn't convincing enough."

Jaster wondered if he could  _ kir'manir  _ the  _ adiik  _ right now, and take him with him when he and the  _ Haat'ade  _ left. This  _ verd'ika  _ had just managed to save almost an entire culture on his own, and at only thirteen years old, if what he had said earlier was true. If that wasn't  _ Mandokarla _ , then Jaster Mereel didn't know what could be.

"Well, Obi-wan Kenobi, then we will inform my commandos."

\-------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- --------------------------

Seeing your children suffer and being unable to help them is the worst thing that can happen to you, and I had to do it every day. I am incapable of doing more than sending them little signals, puzzles in the shape of dreams, and hoping they understood what I meant. Obi-wan Kenobi was one of the Jedi to whom I sent the most visions, both in his first timeline and in this one. Still, between the two, there were profound differences. To begin with, he had the option to do something about it.

And I can assure you, without a doubt, that this would be the first time he would do it, but it would not be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New words that I use in this chapter:  
> dha'kad: darksaber  
> di'kutla jetti: stupid jedi  
> Tion'ad cuyir gar?: What's your name?  
> Ner gai cuyir Obi-wan Kenobi: My name is Obi-wan Kenobi  
> Cabur: guardian  
> Verd'ika: private (rank) Can be used affectionately, often to a child; *little soldier* - context is critical.  
> kir'manir: adopt  
> Mandokarla: the right stuff, guts and spirit


	6. Yan Dooku

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Tuesday again, chapter again!! I hope you like it. I loved to write Dooku's POV, and I really hope that I could write it again in future chapters. Leave kudos and comments if you like it!!
> 
> If you want to ask me anything or just yell at me, you can found me here [@Morganiswriting](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/morganiswriting)

The fall of the Jedi Master Yan Dooku had begun when he committed mass murder in Galidraan. Maybe even earlier. However, thanks to a meddling Initiate and a self-sacrificing knight, things were going to develop in a real different way this time around.

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Master Jedi Yan Dooku was having a good day. A great day, even. Obviously, that couldn't last.

As soon as they landed on Galidraan, the man realized that the Force was not happy. It swirled around him, shoving, and rebelling as if it might keep him from doing his job. It was strange behavior for the Force, but he decided to keep going until he reached the Governor's office.

There the Force wasn't sad. It was angry. So much anger and fear, near to what the Dark side was. Dooku couldn't understand what was happening. They were there to do their work, stop the mass murder that the Mandalorians were committing. Why was the Force so adamantly disappointed?

His Padawan wasn't making his life any easier. He had always known that Komari had trouble controlling her anger. Still, the bloodlust she had shown since they had been given this mission was beginning to worry him.

Maybe it was pure excitement at the new mission, nothing more. Yan had had a few terrible days, and perhaps he was beginning to imagine things. Several seconds later, they reached the office door. When he was already leaning to open it, a body intervening between him and the handle stopped him.

Dooku was beginning to doubt if the world, the galaxy, the universe, realized that it was not the day to bother him.

"Knight Grainer, what do you think you are doing?"

"Master Dooku, I'm genuinely sorry, but I just talked with the Governor like you instructed me when the Council sent me in advance. He explained to me rather thoroughly what steps we should follow before we began to intervene in the affair directly," the young knight explained.

"What kind of steps?" asked Komari with exasperation.

"Bureaucratic steps," Grainer answered.

The Force was jiggling to him. He was sure of it.

"Knight Grainer, I don't have time for your jokes. In fact, I thought that you hated to trick people," stated Dooku, trying to understand what was happening.

Feemor didn't seem particularly guilty for telling him that a lot of documents awaited him before he could even set foot on the battlefield. Komari looked about to punch whatever was closest to him. The rest of the Jedi accompanying him didn't seem particularly concerned.

"And what should we do, exactly?" the Jedi Master asked.

"First, transcribe step by step what our initial strategy will be. Later, they can use that report to compare it with the end and find out what happened, what unexpected problems there have been... Next, we will need to deliver it to the Central Secretariat of Galidraan, so that they can keep it until we return from our mission. The Governor told me that, from there, we depend on what the secretary asks of us."

Dooku knew he was too young to begin to fear heart attacks. Still, this mission had just started, and he already feared that at any moment, it would continue to get worse.

"Okay, let's do what you say. Do you have whatever we must fill in?" he asked, not wanting to discuss something that seemed imperative for the mission and to have a successful ending.

"Yes, Master. Well, more or less. For the transcript to be accepted, it needs to be written on a specific paper, marked with the seal of Galidraan. It can only be found in the Central Library of the planet."

"And where is that?"

"Across the town," Feemor replied, confidently.

"Now you are making this up," Komari accused.

The truth was that even Dooku did not believe that the Council would have sent them on this mission without informing of all these bureaucratic details.

"Do you think this appeals to me more than to you? Because I assure you, I don't feel like doing it at all. The Governor told me that he believed the Jedi would know all these protocol features, so he did not think it necessary to inform us. How could they know we had no idea?" Feemor accused.

The truth was that the knight was right. He should have learned all those little details before starting, but he hadn't thought they were going to be so demanding when his call for help had been so rushed. It was still a bit absurd.

"Okay, then. To the library. We can take advantage of it and write a summary of the mission there. Then we deliver it and -"

"To kill Mandalorians!"

"To work, Komari. I would appreciate it if you didn't get so excited about a possible mass murder prospect. "

"Yes, Master," the girl replied, still with a grin on her face.

They began to walk. The truth was, Galidraan was a beautiful planet if it weren't for the current situation. Extensive pine forests and massive snow-capped mountains. The right place for a retreat. Although Dooku wasn't thinking about it too much, he didn't know how long he might spend in the Order. Especially with the doubts that plagued him from time to time about the excessively close relationship between the Jedi and the Senate. But even if he wanted to retire, he would have to return to his familiar position as Count of Serenno. His was a life of community service, wherever he was.

It wasn't like he could decide to quit and, for example, devote his entire life to being dramatic and wearing expensive capes. That plan had no viable way out.

They advanced amid wooden huts and hanging nests. Some families looked at them with curiosity and fear in equal measure. It was true that it was strange to see so many Jedi together, on the same planet and in the same direction, especially if the world in question was not Coruscant. They kept walking until they reached the famous library, after almost forty-five minutes of walking.

That damned library was further away than it looked, and Dooku wasn't as young as before.

Either way, at least they had arrived. Dooku made the gesture to go in for the papers himself, but Feemor stopped him, standing in front of the door and smiling at him as if he hadn't been betting on the pod races all night. He must have learned it from Qui-Gon.

For his part, Dooku had learned from that smile that it didn't usually bring anything good. Ever.

"I'm going, Master, don't worry," the boy announced, before entering the building without waiting for an affirmative or negative answer.

Fifteen minutes passed before they realized that this was going to be a long wait. Most of the Jedi fanned out, determined to visit nearby shops or get a drink while waiting. Even Komari seemed to have calmed down, deciding to walk over to a small candy stall that offered blue milk buns.

Dooku stood in front of the library door, looking around and trying to keep everyone in check, just in case they had to face a surprise attack or something like that. After nearly an hour of waiting, even he relaxed. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cold light that crossed the pines' branches and hit his open face. He took a deep breath, trying to remember what clean air was like before turning back to that ball of pollution that was Coruscant when a woman approached him.

"Excuse me, Jedi Master, I know I will sound annoying, but I can't help but wonder, what are so many of you doing here?"

He watched her for a few moments, trying to decide if the woman was trying to play a prank on him or if it had really coincided that she had not heard anything of what was happening. It was not only on her planet but so close to her own city. Realizing that the question was sincere, Dooku decided to answer it as gently as possible without falling into condescendingly.

"Ma'am, haven't you heard anything about Mandalorians' group that has attacked a part of the population and killed dozens of civilians?"

The woman's expression made it clear that no, she hadn't heard anything.

"Master Jedi, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, and I'm sure you've done your investigation of the situation, but you're wrong. There have been no attacks on citizens, just a group of Mandalorians have had to deal with a few rebels that the Governor could not get rid of. My son wanted to approach the camp yesterday, but some of the Commandos intercepted him. They let him touch their armor but told him he couldn't go any further because it was dangerous. I don't think they are the people you have to take care of," the woman said, still looking at him with surprise and incomprehension.

Great, just great. The Council couldn't send him to another stupid Senate cycle, no, that would be too easy. He had to go on these missions because he liked to show what a "good duelist" he was. If he has stayed home. Dooku took out the comm and called the only knight who knew, almost certainly, what was going on.

"Feemor, I appreciate you because you were my Padawan's Padawan, but- No, don't get lost with the fact that Qui-Gon has renounced you. I don't care about that right now. What I mean is that you must come back here in this second. Leave this way of wasting my time and explain why a citizen is basically telling me that the Governor has deceived us. I want the whole story. All of it," he demanded, before hanging up, giving the boy no choice to reply.

Feemor arrived barely a minute later, running and flushed, both from effort and embarrassment or so Dooku hoped. He looked at him disapprovingly, to state his dominance, before starting to ask.

"Very well, now you are going to tell me everything. And I also mean why did you decide to come to Galidraan earlier. At this point, I no longer believe it was a fluke or a request from the Council," Dooku ordered.

The blonde resisted for a few minutes, a brave but futile attempt. The truth was that, of all, the Council's mistake and the lack of interest in investigating what they were going to intervene were the least shocking. However, the Initiate Kenobi's meddling was more surprising. The boy was interesting, to say the least. Brilliant, outstanding notes in negotiation and lightsaber skills… And yet, he was still without a Master, and he only had a little less than a month to go until he reached thirteen and have to go to one of the Corps. They weren't a wrong choice for some, but Dooku considered that, in this case, it would be a considerable waste of talent.

"Please, Master, keep Obi-wan out of it. He has given up a duel, probably his last chance to be chosen as a Padawan, to come here and avoid a mass murder. He doesn't deserve to get in trouble," the knight pleaded.

"Okay, but I have a question. If you appreciate this Initiate so much, why don't you ask him if he wants to be your Padawan? That way, he wouldn't have to worry about it," Dooku asked, with a curious sincerity far more common to him than others might think.

"I tried, although Obi-wan does not know it. The Council replied that I am too young to have a Padawan. At least that's what Master Yoda says," the boy replied, expressing sadness and unhappiness.

Dooku let out an unworthy sound, halfway between anger and frustration, wondering why Yoda thought this boy was too young to train anyone. He was the perfect age to have a Padawan, and it was clear that he and the boy already had a connection, what was wrong?

"Well, we will cross that planet when we get to it. Thanks for answering. We're going to the Mandalorians' camp, for now, I have a lot to talk about with your Mand' alor. Thank you for your help, ma'am, you can't imagine how helpful this has been," Dooku announced before moving off and motioning for the rest of the Knights joined them. "Let's go. It seems we have a lot to clarify."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yoda was a little meddling bastard, even in he was one of my more long-lived children. I hope that this time, I can do something to change some of his wrongs before it is too late for everyone. I promise I'll try.


	7. Myles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY!! I HAD A HORRIBLE COUPLE OF WEEKS. At work, with my family... This wasn't my month. But, to compensate you, I made a really long chapter, and I'm working on the second chapter of In case you live forever. Thank you for reading, and if you want, lave comments and kudos, or come to talk and ask me on my tumblr [@Morganiswriting](https://morganiswriting.tumblr.com/)

The future is shaped by small shards assembled in different ways. Thousands of tomorrows could be created with them, but only one is the unit that interests us now. One where Obi-wan Kenobi is aware that people are willing to fight for him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Believing a jett'ika with a dubious story was one thing, but Myles was quite sure that Jast'ika wanted to adopt him. Another ad, like he didn't have two already. It wasn't that Myles thought his Mand'alor was a di'kut, but sometimes he behaved like one. Bringing a jetti to the camp, even a little one, was a di'kut move.

Myles stayed in the corner of the table while the other two entered the tent, and the al'verde had to admit that the kid had guts. Despite being in a room full of people his Order had taught him to look at as enemies, the redhead remained expressionless, except for the eyebrow slightly raised and his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Perhaps in a decade that stance could terrify those who stand up to him, Myles thought as he continued to analyze his body and facial language. However, without any kind of beskar'gam or buy'ce, it was effortless to know what the child was thinking by paying a little attention.

It was even cute to see how he refused to move away from Jaster more than a couple of steps. When Arla appeared inside the tent, however, he quickly moved to her side. Interesting. Did he know her too? Now that was fast-acting.

"I have an announcement to make, vode. Right now, Arla and I have given the order to clear the camp. The jettise are here, and they are not exactly coming to welcome us. We have to leave as soon as possible," Jaster announced, moving his head from one to another of those present.

Even with the buy'ce on, Myles knew that his companion was trying to convey a reassurance that no one in this room could believe.

"Buir, I don't want to disagree with you, but you have a jett'ika right next to you," Jango informed him.

The boy had the buy'ce propped up on the table, and he had an incredulous expression on his face. Many of those present reflected that same expression, not understanding if Jaster had utterly lost his head or if he was playing some kind of joke on them.

"Jango, I know there is a jett'ika by my side. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be here now, or at least many of us wouldn't be here," Jaster explained as he walked up to the head of the table, next to Jango.

Arla followed him, and by extension, the kid did too.

"And how is it possible that this ad'ika has saved us, Mand'alor?" asked Maia Ordo, looking at the child with more curiosity than anything else.

Jaster looked at the kid, who gave him a single nod and then told an impressive and ridiculous story about a vision. A horrible vision. Every one of the Mando'ade present was tense, anger was flooding the room, and frustration invading every inch of space. Myles was no exception. Imagining all of his people killed in cold blood by the jettise was like ... there was nothing to compare it to. Demagolka was not enough to describe the type of monsters that would raze an entire camp without knowing if the people in it were guilty.

The problem that concerned him most, however, was not that. Looking at the jett'ika, Myles wondered which sentiment was more prevalent among the commandos: admiration that the kid had been brave enough to stand in the way, or hatred that he was part of the jettise who had nearly condemned them.

The jett'ika also seemed to know. It resembled a tooka trapped between a blaster and the Wild Space and had begun to back toward the exit. Myles understood that it was difficult for an aruetii to understand the Mando'ade, especially when many had the buy'ce on. The kid was scared, and if what they said about the jettise was true, surely he could sense that some of them were furious. By extension, the red-haired kid believed that they were angry with him.

"Hey, hey, udesii, jett'ika. We're not going to hurt you," he said, in an attempt to calm him down.

The result was clearly the opposite. The Mando'ad only managed to get the rest of the room to look at him and make the ad'ika even more defensive, backing away until he was almost out of the tent.

If they let him get out of there and get lost among the roads that entered and left the camp, they would never see him again. Maia, Jaster, Silas, and Arla seemed to be thinking the same thing, as they began to move to block the exit. It didn't take long for the kid to understand what was happening, and his expression made it clear that he didn't like the idea at all.

"Obi-wan, I need you to calm down. No one is going to hurt you, okay? "Arla said, before making a move to put his hand on his shoulder. Surprisingly, the kid did not turn away from her, but raised his head and looked at her carefully.

"But you are all furious. It's understandable, but it's not pleasant," replied the ad'ika, who was trying, by all means, to remain calm.

Jaster kept trying to calm the others, Arla kept competing in a staring contest with the kid and the rest didn't know what to do. Fed up with the situation, Myles began to move, removing the buy'ce along the way and laying it on the center table. No-one stopped him when he knelt in front of the kid, who was considerably shorter than Myles had initially believed and looked him in the eye. Through the eyes and the Force, he hoped the kid would see that no one was lying to him.

"Udeesi, Ob'ika." The kid looked at him, confused. "Your name is Obi-wan, right? In Mando'a ''ika' is used to make diminutives. If you don't want me to call you that, you just have to say so. "

The kid shrugged, but Myles waited for verbal confirmation before continuing.

"I don't care, it's... cute," commented the kid, who, with each passing second, became more and more relaxed.

"I'm glad. My name is Myles, and I usually use the pronouns he, him, and his. We have not even allowed you to present yourself as it should be. Do you want to do it now?" the man offered, trying to clarify in his tone that the kid had no obligation to say his name.

"Ner gai cuyir Obi-wan Kenobi," said the kid, with a disastrous pronunciation but a look full of adorable innocence.

Myles was beginning to understand why Jaster would have melted if the kid had done the same when he had met him.

"You can use the Basic, ad'ika. And you can also say which pronouns you prefer so that we know which ones to use when speaking in this language," the man explained.

"Ehhh, my name is Obi-wan Kenobi. He, him and his, I suppose. They are the ones I have always used. "

Myles decided to leave the explanation for later that if he was more comfortable using others instead of the ones he had always used, he could choose. Instead, he decided to focus on finishing reassuring him.

“Nobody is mad at you. We are furious with the situation, we internally hate to think that many of us would have died if it had not been for you. The Mando’ade and your Order have never had the best relationship, but it was a long time since we were in this situation,” Myles explained.

It was a relatively poor attempt to explain a complicated political situation that had been giving them problems for millennia. Maia crouched beside him, also without her buy'ce, and the carnivorous smirk that the Togruta wore had never seemed kinder.

"Ob’ika, no one is going to hurt you, okay?"

The boy just nodded and tried to give her a brave smile. Unfortunately, his eyes were still as sad as they had been since he had arrived.

“Arla, go supervise the camp pickup. Ob’ika, stay here. There's a place next to Jango. We have a lot to talk about, and now is as good a time as any,” Jaster told him, before turning to the rest of the commandos.

Obi-wan followed Mand’alor’s suggestion and moved to the other side. They made a curious image. Jango was stiff, clearly uncomfortable, and the jett’ika still hadn't quite managed to relax, looking around for any threat. In fact, Myles could have sworn Jango's buy'ce was lifted an inch off the table before Obi-wan realized it and got hold of himself.

In the future, Myles would understand that anything to do with Obi-wan Kenobi was doomed. However, on that occasion, he had just met him, and he could not imagine that, when it seemed that everything had passed, you should prepare for the worst. So when one of the younger verd’ika entered the tent, loudly announcing that some Jettise were approaching, the news caught him and everyone else off guard.

"What are the jettise doing here?"

Kal was not a quiet person by nature, but now he looked more like an erupting volcano than a person. He approached Obi-wan, but Jango stepped between them, slowing his advance.

“We still don't know why they are here. The other jetti may have betrayed us, or they just realized what the other was doing and have… ”Jango looked at the ad’ika, then at the rest of the crowd. “… They have ignored it and have decided to continue on their way. Right now, we have no idea about anything. "

Kal, despite not seeming content with not being able to carry out the threat his body language promised, understood that now was not the time. When Jaster emerged from the tent, determined to meet the Jettise before they got even closer to the camp, they all followed him, including Kal. Obi-wan stayed by Jango and Maia's side, advancing with a steady stride that surprised Myles.

A sizeable group of jettise (considering they usually moved in pairs) waited for them at the edge of the camp. They hadn't made any kind of gesture of trying to cross the limits, but at any moment they could try. All the Commandos present moved their hands to the blasters, prepared for any situation.

The Jetti leader was a tall and dignified man as only the tallest towers of Sundari could be, with his chin raised and his hands folded in front of him. His clothing was of material far superior to what Obi-wan and the other jettise wore, marking supremacy of status that did not go unnoticed. Nor did they miss the look of genuine terror that crossed the face of a blond jetti when he saw Obi-wan appear next to the Mand’alor.

“Initiate Kenobi, I thought you would be in the Temple, as Initiates your age should be. Didn't you have a duel this morning? Decisive to know if you will be chosen Padawan or not. I suppose the fact that you are here is enough of an answer as to what your future will be,” the man observed, taking no more than a second to evaluate the ad’ika.

The tone's coolness was more like glass than ice, a unique way of reflecting how little it mattered to him that a twelve- or thirteen-year-old was in the middle of a possible battlefield. A boy who had just fixed a problem that they had been about to cause.

"Master Dooku ..." interrupted the blond jetti.

"Hush, Knight Grainer, I need to speak to the Mandalorians,"

Silence fell, and the cold wind waited to see if his next song would be about dozens of lives saved or about one of the worst massacres the planet had ever witnessed. Either option was as possible as the other, and everyone present was silent, awaiting the verdict of the jetti.

The master turned to look at them, and then he talked.

“Ni ceta. I sincerely apologize for not having investigated thoroughly. The Order did not bother to verify the Governor's accusations. If it had not been for a woman from the city and these two mavericks doing what they do best, we would have made a mistake that we would not have been able to solve. Ours has never been an easy relationship, but this would have been the last straw,” the man apologized as he bowed.

Following his example, the rest of the jettise also bowed. Myles couldn't remember when the last time something like this had happened. Had it ever happened? They might have been the first Mando’ade to receive an apology from some jettise. The rest of his vode were just as shocked as he was, and even Kal had forgotten the fury with which he had come.

However, a single jetti stood tall like a jetii'kad, staring in disbelief at the man and her companions' bowed. Her blond hair reflected the light of the star around which the planet revolved. Her blue eyes had turned into a look that only reflected fury and danger.

"Master, what are you doing," the woman demanded, glancing at the older man.

“Padawan, this is another part of your learning. You have to know when you are wrong and, if you are, know how to ask for forgiveness. Now bow down, Komari,” the man replied, leaving no room for discussion.

The jetti stood still for a few seconds, frozen, before speaking again.

"No! Master, can't you see? They may not have done anything this time, but there will be the next time. They are mercenaries, for Force sake. Next time they could carry out an even greater massacre than they could have committed this time. It's the only thing they know how to do,” she scoffed. Now everyone was watching her, both Mando’ade and jettise.

“Komari, this is not the time for this. Are you planning to punish someone who has not yet committed a crime? Because if so, I think we need to address it when we get back to the Temple. Now apologize,” he ordered.

"NO!"

The girl lunged at them, straight for the Mand'alor. No one reacted fast enough. While the beskar was resistant to jetii'kads, it wouldn't take a direct hit to any of the armor's weaker joints. Myles tried to move, to get in between them, but he saw the jetti pass in front of him, right for their target.

The sound of two jetii'kads colliding surprised everyone present, who were still moving to avoid the inevitable. A red-haired blur in a cream-colored tunic had gotten in the way of the jetti. With his jetii'kad, he had managed to parry a direct blow against Jaster. The Mand’alor had the blaster in hand. Still, his body language clearly indicated that he had been ready to accept his kyr'am.

Obi-wan kept his arms and defense firm, but after a couple more blows, it was clear that the boy was no match for a jetti who surpassed him in years and experience. During a couple of minutes in which everyone froze watching them, the girl disarmed the ad'ika and placed the jetii'kad under her chin. However, when it became clear that the girl wasn't going to stop there, she found more than fifteen blasters pointing at her.

“Think very carefully about what you are going to do, jetti. You know there is no way you can divert them all,” Arla warned with a glare as fierce as a mythossaurus.

It took a few seconds for the jetti to drop the jetii'kad and raise her hands in surrender. The Master jetti signaled to a pair of knights and whispered to them to take her to one of the ships.

“We will discuss this when we return to Coruscant. Now I don't want to have you in front of me,” the man ordered before turning to them again. “Obi-wan, you stay here with the Knight Grainer while I speak to these Mandalorians. Then we will go."

Jaster didn't even contradict him. He motioned for only Myles, Arla, and Jango to come with him. Still, the rest of the commandos followed, and the Mand'alor didn't even bother to get angry. They all wanted to know what the man had to say to them out of earshot of the rest of the Jetti.

“I shouldn't be telling you this, but I haven't stopped reviewing everything the Governor told us in his report, and there may be people more interested in your destruction behind this. I would recommend investigating it." Jaster nodded, and Myles couldn't help but think of the Kyr'tsad's dar'manda. "Well, then there is no more to say."

However, the Mand'alor stopped him before he could walk away.

"What is going to happen to them?"

“The Knight Grainer and the Initiate Kenobi? I suppose the Council will decide."

“They have done nothing wrong. And what is that about the duel?" Arla asked, stepping into the conversation.

“The Initiate Kenobi was supposed to participate in a Tournament so that available Masters and Knights could decide if they wanted to choose him as their Padawan. As he did not show up and it is his last chance, he will surely be sent to one of the Service Jedi Corps. Bandomeer or some planet like that,” he informed them.

It was difficult to catch a jetti in a lie. Some of them lied so well that only a Force user could tell. In this case, the Master jetti had tricked him the first time. Still, this second time, his eyes flashed with a special kind of anger, capable of freezing stars. Myles realized that the jetti was much angrier at the situation than he was. That he wanted to show.

"And you couldn't intervene? I don't know what you think, jetti, but for a Mando’ad what that adiik just did would be enough for several Commandos to be fighting to adopt him,” Myles commented casually.

"I would love to speak, but that is a Council issue, not mine," the jetti repeated.

“Then maybe we should offer him a place with us. He has shown more Mandokarla in a single day than some Mando’ad in their entire life,” Maia submitted with a dangerous smile dancing on her face, stroking one of her montrals.

“You cannot adopt an Initiate,” he contradicted before looking around and realizing that he was clearly outnumbered.

"Why not? Doesn't your Order presume that anyone who wants can leave it? Perhaps, given a choice, the ad’ika would prefer to go with us rather than return with you,” Jaster joined the conversation. "Or you can make sure he gets a chance."

“I have some ideas, but I can't promise anything. Besides, the Jedi things have nothing to do with the Mandalorians. "

“We know that you do not like to share things with the aruetiise and that the others know that you have feelings, but this child deserves that they make an effort for him. I need your promise that you will try,” Jaster insisted with the support of all, including Kal, who, since the boy had jumped to defend the Mand’alor, seemed much more willing to believe in him.

The jetti considered them for a few seconds, deciding what to do. Myles was unable to know what was going through his head, and it bothered him, but he said nothing, waiting for the man to make a decision. They would act accordingly.

"I will do what I can for him, I promise, but you owe me one," he replied, before turning in a rather dramatic gesture and heading back toward the camp entrance.

No-one stopped him, because they had gotten what they wanted. Still, Myles couldn't help wondering if the drama was something they taught at the Jetti Temple, or was it a must-have feature to even think about entering it.

They followed him and found him preparing everything to leave. The blond boy gave them a small bow in farewell, but Obi-wan approached them.

"I'm glad I was able to help you, and that you didn't kill me before I could explain what was going on," he told them, with a shy smile and blue eyes shining with relief.

“Thank you, Ob’ika. We all owe you a debt. Here, take this, ”Jaster said, as he crouched in front of him. He offered him a comm, one of the few that only those in the Mand’alor private circle had. The latest technology, capable of contacting the rest of the comms from anywhere in the galaxy.

Obi-wan took it but gave them a confused look.

“If one day you need help, it doesn't matter where or when, and you don't know who to turn to, let us know. Or if you only want to talk. I promise we will respond,” Jaster said, and all the Mando’ade around him nodded to let the boy know that they would be there if he needed them.

"Thank you," Obi-wan said.

"Vor entye," Arla corrected him.

"What?"

“You said earlier that you couldn't learn any more words in Mando’a. What I just said is thank you,” Arla explained, grinning.

"Vor entye," Obi-wan repeated, with the same mispronunciation as always, but with a smile.

Myles understood at that moment why Jaster wanted so badly to adopt this jett’ika.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

No one had seen Yan Dooku give vent to his feelings. A man as controlled as he was unable to lose his temper, but soon enough, the Temple and Yoda would know why the only rage they had ever felt was contained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jett’ika: little jedi  
> Ad: son/daughter  
> Jetti: Jedi  
> Di’kut: stupid  
> Al'verde: commander  
> Beskar'gam: armor  
> Buy’ce: helmet  
> Vode: comrades  
> Buir: Dad  
> Ad’ika: little one  
> Demagolka: someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal  
> Aruetii: Outsider  
> Udesii: Calm down  
> Kyr’am: death  
> Dar’manda: a state of not being Mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditionall-minded Mando'ade  
> Vor entye: Thank you


	8. Mace Windu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here I am again. I really like this chapter, even if it is maybe a little static because I think that some important things are talked about in it. I love Obi-wan with all my heart, and I don't hate Qui-gon (he is going to get better) but I think that he needs time to get over Xanatos and him taking Obi as his Padawan wasn't the best idea. Hope you like the chapter!!!

I only want to see my children happy. Still, I understand that sometimes, you need to scream to the Grandmaster of your Order. Consequently, he must realize that meddling with other people's lives is wrong.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Council meetings were the most boring thing Mace Windu had ever had to attend to. He had been a Master of the Jedi Order for years, yet he still couldn't help but agree with Depa when she made up a thousand and one excuse not to go. And she was not even a counselor yet. She only went as his student from time to time.

This session was supposed to be a quiet review of the reports of the last missions carried out. Still, of course, Yoda's lineage had to contradict him and spoil his morning as if they had nothing better to do. Just a week ago, he had sent Dooku on a mission. Now he reappeared, saying that it had all been a hoax and with the missing Obi-wan Kenobi just a few steps behind him.

Mace was complaining of boredom, but he was beginning to think that the Force had taken him too seriously and now nothing but trouble awaited him.

"So, let me get this straight, The Governor framed the True Mandalorians as a favor for the Deathwatch. Then, he sent a false report, expected that we dealt with the problem, and what? Killed all of them?" asked Mace, still without understanding why someone would get in so much trouble to kill a group of people.

There were easier ways to kill someone, even a large group like the True Mandalorians, without so many turns, twists, and paperwork. Obviously, Mace wouldn't encourage anyone to find easier ways to commit mass murder. Still, the difficulty and premeditation never ceased to amaze him. 

"As a summary of what happened is good enough, yes," Dooku answered. "Which brings me to an incredibly extensive list of what the Council has done wrong and that we must acknowledge, point by point."

The man actually got a datapad out of one of the inner pockets of his robe. He turned it on, and for a few seconds, he read his notes, causing the rest of the councilors to squirm uncomfortably in their seats.

Yan Dooku sure knew how to create anticipation.

"So, do you prefer we talk about the mission first or the great mistake that it is leaving Obi-wan without a Master? I can wait while you ponder your answer."

This man was too cheeky for his own good.

"Master Dooku, I don't think that my padawanship is a topic worthy of discussing with the Council," Obi-wan intervened, with a soft and unsure voice.

"My boy, you've been fighting for others the whole week, now let others support for you," Yan answered while still glaring at his former Master.

"Present for that we need Qui-gon to be. Considering choosing obi-wan as his next Padawan, he was," Yoda intervened, pulling the comm out of one of his pockets and texting Qui-gon.

"In that case, we begin with the mission, and we will address that other topic when my former Padawan is present. Perfect," Yan replied, stretching a little more to take advantage of his commendable height and use it to his full benefit.

"So let's get started, then," ordered Mace.

"Fantastic. I should have done a little presentation or something, but I guess I'll have to save it for another time. As the head of my intervention team, I take full responsibility for not investigating the curious and hasty request. Still, I believed that, with the approval of the Council, there would be no problem. Had it not been for the young Knight, Feemor Grainer, and his insane but compelling adventure through Galidraan, we would not have discovered that the dreaded Mandalorians, far from being serial killers, were doing their job." Dooku paused for a breath and then kept talking.

"Yan, one second, what do you want to-" Plo tried to interrupt.

"Wait, let me finish. Then I find out that an Initiate has managed to get out of the Temple, which shouldn't be possible even with the help of a Knight. I then discover that he is helping the Mandalorians run away, trying to avoid what would likely be a major disaster in our recent history." He caught a breath again. "So, the influential, powerful, almighty Council was saved from the embarrassment and a diplomatic problem at the galactic level by an Initiate and a Knight because they just take the missions the Senate gives them and don't think about making sure that they are correct. I don't think I missed anything, right?" He asked, looking at the Knight Grainer for confirmation.

The boy shook his head, and Dooku turned so that he could observe them one by one and make them hide in their seats from the sheer shame that many of them were feeling at that moment.

"Master Dooku, I think you are greatly exaggerated what the problem is. Instead of changing the focus of attention. Shouldn't we talk about how a Knight thought it convenient to help an Initiate with too much thirst for adventure to sneak into a mission whose main characteristic was its dangerousness? "Asked Oppo Rancisis without taking his eye off those mentioned earlier.

"I have to admit that it was not his most brilliant plan, but I also understand that the vision of young Kenobi had to be one of slaughter and terror that, at thirteen, led him to lose control of his emotions and act rashly. In fact, I believe that the Knight Grainer did the only thing he could in that situation. It was too late to stop him, so his best option was to accompany him and make sure he returned safely," Dooku contradicted, starting to pace around the room of the Council.

"The one losing control of your emotions you are, my young Padawan. Yes, hmmm." Yoda replied, twisting around his stick and glaring at Dooku.

"You are right, Master, I'm going to calm down and just ask you a few fairly simple questions. Yes or no," he explained, looking at each of them.

"Dooku..." Mace tried to warn.

"The first question: Did you or did you not investigate the request a little bit before giving the mission to a clearly big and unnecessary powerful team?"

"We did not," answered Yaddle, to everyone surprise.

It was true that the old Master had had her own reservation about the mission, but so did Master Koon and Master Nu, and no one said anything about it.

"Thank you for your openness, Master. Now, the second question. Did or did not the Initiate Obi-wan Kenobi intervention saved the mission and our already complicated relationship with the Mandalorians? I would even dare to say that thanks to him, it has improved. The Mand'alor himself told me that, under different circumstances, young Kenobi's actions would have caused various senior warriors within the Mandalorian chain of command to fight for the pleasure and honor of adopting him into their clan," Dooku specified.

"It's clear that you are here and that multiple Mandalorian ships had accompanied you almost to Coruscant, so yes, I'd said he did," Mace answered, hoping this could end soon.

"With all this information, I think te Council has two things to do: forgave Obi-wan and Knight Grainer for their clear hasty behavior and reevaluate how they investigate the requests sent from the Senate," ended his exposition Dooku.

"I think that a little bit of meditation about their behavior would be good for the two young men, even if they don't receive more severe punishment," Plo suggested.

Dooku nodded, and Mace realized that the kriffing man had seized the Council's power with just a few questions and a lot of self-assurance. It was irritating.

"And now we can talk about-"

"Excuse me, Masters, but Master Yoda wanted to see me?" A voice came from the door.

Qui-gon Jinn, in all his glory, was at the door. If Mace weren't so stubborn or genuinely wanted to know how this meeting was going to end, he'd be wondering if he shouldn't jump out the window and find a speeder that could take him to a good bar in the lower part of town. Yoda's lineage was made almost entirely by dramatic people.

"Yes, Qui-gon, just about to begin that conversation we were," answered the old Master.

The man entered until he was at the same point as his former Master and then waited for them to talk. Mace was going to give the turn to Dooku again, but Yoda was faster than him and began to speak first.

"A padawan you need, even if it is what you want right now, is not. Just returned from a mission, young Kenobi has. Having been approved by the Council was not, but in a happy ending, it has ended, thanks to him. Talking about him a few days ago, we were. See him fight in the Tournament you could not, but sure I am that make one of the best teams this Council has seen in a long time, you will. Hmmm, yes, you will," Yoda stated, not caring about the unmistakable face of exasperation his grandpadawan was putting on.

"I'm sorry to be this straightforward, Master, but I'm not interested in a Padawan, even less if we are talking about a boy that, instead of asking for help, decided to take the matter in his own hands and run away to fulfill a vision that he didn't even know if it was true or not. This boy doesn't know how to deal with his emotions. He wouldn't be a good Jedi Knight, and I don't want to be responsible for one more failure," Qui-gon answered.

Every person in the room could feel the sincerity and openness in his response. He really thought that. Mace wanted to contradict him with all his heart. He had been following the young one since he was out of the crechè, and he could be a great Jedi Knight. However, he must remain objective and silent until the end of the session, when they had to decide.

"Qui-gon Jinn, I thought that I taught you better than this. YOu are still brooding about that Padawan of yours. You had him a little spoiled, that's true, but it was not your fault that he Fall. He decided to do so. You can't refuse to teach anyone anymore just because of one failure," Dooku argued, incredulous at the younger man's words.

"I'm telling the truth, Master. If he is aware of it, he can accept it and move on. It's not that complic-"

"ENOUGH. This is enough, Master Qui-gon, Master Yoda. It's not just that you are plainly rude. It's said that a Master-Padawan bond needs to be done with the approval of both parts. Have you asked him?" Feemor intervened after being silent for too long.

"He would take whatever he can get, he's desperate. That's another reason why he can't be a Jedi Knight. A Jedi accepts the will of the Force without trying to change it," Qui-gon added.

Mace was overly stressed with the conversation, but not enough not to see the little Initiate trying just to disappear. He looked more irritated than in distress, and for a moment, Mace asked himself how he would felt if his future were being discussed before them like he wasn't even there. Without a voice or an opinion.

"Initiate Kenobi, is there anything you want to say?" he asked.

If he knew anything about the boy, Obi-wan would not waste the opportunity.

"Yes, Master," and then he walked until he was in the middle of the room. "I understand that, sometimes, adults think that they know what is better for us, the children. However, we know a few things, too. I know that it was wrong to act independently without telling about my vision to the Council. I need to learn how to control myself and my emotions. Maybe I need to stop trusting my powers so much. Nevertheless, I know that I'm not wanted by any Knight or Master, and that's okay. Even if Master Jinn doesn't believe me, I know how to accept the will of the Force. I will go to any of the Corps that would have me."

The silence reigned on the Council chambers for a couple of seconds until the boy spoke again.

"Still, I want to make a thing very clear," he turned and looked to Qui-gon. "I learned a lot on this mission, and throughout my short life. I don't want or need a Master that doesn't want me. I am not the perfect Jedi, maybe I'll never be, but even a kid like me can see that you're paying your insecurities telling me all of this, and that's not fair. I hope that someday you get to be better than that."

Mace couldn't control himself, and he began to clap. Jocasta did the same. Even if they were the only ones doing it openly, the Master of the Order knew that everyone in the Council was surprised with that little monologue.

"Well, this was an intense meeting. Can we wrap this up?" asked Yaddle when everyone calmed down.

"No, Master, there's one more thing that I want to say," interrupted Feemor. "Obi-wan," he said, kneeling and looking the kin in the eyes, "there's one thing that you got wrong in your conclusions. I want you as my Padawan, if you would have me and if this Council approves of it. I've never met someone as brave as you're, or as smart and selfless, and I think we would do a great pair. What do you say?"

The boy was almost weeping, trying not to let the tears fall from his eyes. He just nodded, and then both turned to look at the council members, waiting for the verdict.

"I approve of this match," said Jocasta, with a little smile cornering her mouth.

"Me too," seconded Mace.

One after another, all councilors except Yoda approved of the match. The old frog spoke then.

"Approve I would, but a condition, there is. Shared, this padawanship should be, between Master and Grandmaster, until sure we are, that Knight Grainer capable is. Hmmm, yes, do this, we should," he said.

Everyone knew that they wouldn't get him to agree if it wasn't with this condition, so everyone accepted. Feemor and Qui-gon were clearly displeased, and the former tried to argue that he had renounced his former Padawan. Still, nothing worked when Yoda wanted to get away with something.

_ Only the Force knows what will happen _ , thought Mace. At least, the young Kenobi was happy.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

I knew that this was a terrible error, but at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Obi-wan Kenobi had an official Master who wasn't mourning his last Padawan, and maybe, just maybe, a friendship with the True Mandalorians could come in handy when you're trapped in the middle of a civil war.


	9. Six months of friendships in messages and holocalls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm sorry I've gone missing for months now?? College is horrible, even more with the pandemic. I'm really sorry, and I hope that I'll be able to update more frequently from now on. I know that I'll try. I hope there are still people reading this.  
> If there are, I'm going to warn you now: the next chapters are Melida/Daan sh*tshow, and it's not going to be pretty, but after a storm of angst there is a calmness of fluff, so please, stick with me. Thank you for reading!!!

Jango Fett to Obi-wan Kenobi

/Text message/

_Su cuy'gar_. Hello. Hi. For Manda, you need to begin learning Mando'a, so I know in which language should I speak. How are things around the Temple? I hope that in case they punished you, they weren't too harsh. Arla told me to tell you that if you need it, we will come to your rescue. _Buir_ also believes that you would be an incredible Mando'ade if you wanted. I just want you to know that if you need it, we are here for you. _Ret'urcye mhi_. (This means goodbye but like, with the meaning that "may we meet again". Just so you know)

* * *

Obi-wan Kenobi to Jango Fett

/Text message/

_Su cuy'gar,_ Jango. I promise I'm learning Mando'a, so please, stop complaining. My punishment was soft, compared with what I was expecting. I'm a Padawan now!!! Jedi Knight Feemor Grainer, the one who came with me to Galidraan, has offered himself as my Master, and I have accepted. I'm a bit worried because Master Yoda has… commanded? him to share guardianship with Master Qui-gon Jinn, but I suppose we won't see much of it. Today he went on a six-month diplomatic mission, so I am a little calmer. Have you returned to Keldabe? How is the situation? I've been reading about Mandalore's history, but the Temple documents' point of view is somewhat… skewed. I'd like to have something to counter them with. _Ret'urcye mhi_.

* * *

Jaster Fett to Feemor Grainer

/text message/

_Su cuy'gar, jett'ika._ I'm happy to hear from Jango (I gave Arla and him a way to contact Obi-wan, even if they are not that close, because I think they can be good friends) that Ob'ika is doing good. I am glad that Dooku kept his promise. I hope that from now on, I only hear good things from Obi-wan. _Ret'urcye mhi_.

* * *

Arla Fett to Obi-wan Kenobi

I swear Jango is going to kill someone soon. I'd say Satine Kryze if I had to bet. We have only been in Sundari for two ten-days, and they are no longer able to look at each other without threatening their counterpart. _Buir_ tries to ignore the situation as much as possible. Jango only plans ways to kill the potential genocide, and Bo-Katan is too young and impatient to understand me, so you have to put up with me. I'm nice when I don't feel threatened with death, I promise. Anyway, it doesn't matter. Jango mentioned that you were reading some things about Mandayaim, so I am sending you these holo-books and some links from the HoloNet that may be interesting. I have also included some Mando'a modules in case you want to get started. Call me if you need to practice orally. We are trapped in the Sundari court for the foreseeable future, and I don't think we will get out of here anytime soon.

* * *

Obi-wan Kenobi to Arla Fett

/Holo call/

Obi-wan's smile was the first thing Arla saw when she turned on her comm, and she quickly walked out of the crowded room she was in so she could have some privacy.

"Jett'ika! How are you? You have impeccable timing, I have to admit. One more state meal and I'm going to start using New Mandalorians politicians for target practice," he promised as he reached an empty room.

The boy let out a laugh but said nothing. Smart boy, trying to stop her wouldn't do any good, and cheering her up would be the least jetti thing he could do.

"I was calling to claim those spoken Mando'a classes that you promised me, but if it doesn't suit you now, I can call again at another time."

"No, no, don't worry, this is a perfect time. So, what have you been practicing?"

"I tried the basics. Hello, bye, introduce myself... I'm working on verbs and adjectives, although the syntax is still a bit difficult for me," Obi-wan confessed as he sat on the floor of a place that was probably his room.

"Well, you're more hardworking than some of our _ade_. So, if you want, we can begin with you presenting yourself, and then we work from there," said Arla, waiting for him to begin.

/Call duration: 1:30h/

* * *

Feemor Grainer to Jaster Mereel

/Text message/

_Su cuy'gar, Mand'alor._ I understand we said this was only for emergencies, but I really don't know how to be not just a teacher but a guardian too. Master Dooku has gone on a mission, and Master Windu has too many things on his plate already. Obi-wan is having nightmares almost every night, and the only answer I can get from Master Yoda is to give him a cup of tea. I don't know how to make it better, Mand'alor, and I can't keep seeing him cry. What can I do? I feel so lost. _Vor entye_.

* * *

Jaster Mereel to Feemor Grainer

/Holo call/

"Knight Grainer? Is it now a good moment for us to talk?" asked the Mand'alor, appearing in all his holographic glory right in front of him.

Feemor, who had taken the comm and answered without knowing who was on the other side. He was lying in one of the inner gardens of the Temple, one with enough flora from his home planet to calm him when he needed to think. Seeing the Mand'alor, he straightened and tried to reposition the light robe he was wearing.

"Of course, _Mand'alor_. Why is this call?"

"By Manda, if I'm going to be giving you advice on how to be a good _buir_ , I think you can call me Jaster."

"I'm not Obi-wan's father! I'm more like ..."

"Your guardian?"

"Yes, exactly."

" _Cabur_ , then. No matter what name you give yourself, in the end, the result is the same: protect and teach Obi-wan so that he can become whatever he wants to be," the man stated with certainty that Feemor could not help but envy.

"I suppose."

"Well, first things first. Does your _ad_ like stories? Maybe reading to him after a nightmare can help him relax if he doesn't want to tell you what it was about. Jango kept letting him read to him from time to time until almost fifteen as long as he promised that information would not leave the room. It may work for Obi-wan too. If not, make him focus on something else. Sometimes, forcing them to sleep can do more harm than good. "

Feemor nodded to whatever the Mand'alor said, taking mental notes of what might or might not work with Obi-wan.

"So if I can get him to read..."

/ Call duration: 50 min./

* * *

Arla Fett to Obi-wan Kenobi

/Holo message/

*Jaster, Arla, Jango, and a dozen more of Mando'ade speaking ones above others until Myles was able to get near enough the comm to talk so he was the only one who could be listened to*

" _Briikase gote'tuur, Ob'ika_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Everyone is so happy, you're old enough for beskar'gam now!! We'll try to go and visit you as soon as we can, okay?? _Ret_ '!"

* * *

Obi-wan Kenobi to Jango Fett

_Su cuy'gar, Jan'ika_. I'm not sure when I would be able to write to you again. Master Jinn is taking me with him on a rescue mission. He says that I need more experience in those kinds of tasks out of the Temple. Master Feemor isn't on the Temple either because he had an essential mission with Master Tolme. You know who, the Master of my friend Quinlan.

I'm... I'm afraid, Jango. I have a horrible feeling about this, but I can't say no. I'm taking this comm with me, just in case. I hope I only have to use it to say that I'm okay. _Ret'urcye mhi_.

* * *

_*It's been two weeks since Obi-wan Kenobi has used this comm. Your calls are either being dismissed or he can't talk to you. We're sorry for the trouble.*_


	10. Qui-gon Jinn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!! The first part of the Melida/Daan arc, and we begin really... soft, taking in account that I already have the outline for the rest of the chapters of the arc (5-6 more or less) and things aren't going to get prettier. Warning: I didn't read the Jedi Apprentice books, so all my descriptions of aspects, places, and situations are made using Wookiepedia, other fanfics ([Everybody needs luck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25124182/chapters/60871747) by [@mneiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai) is one of the best Melida/Daan fics I'm reading right now), and my own imagination. So, it could be a little OoC. Sorry in advance. Enjoy the chapter!!!

Padawans are not things to use as little therapy animals to help adults get back to good mental health. I don't have morals or ethics, but I still know to differentiate between good and bad decisions. Yoda, for all his almost 900 years of wisdom, made quite a lot of bad choices. No child should have to know what war is because they stop being kids from that very moment. They are people trying to survive, and that is a destiny that I don't want for my little creations.

* * *

Qui-gon Jinn didn't like babysitting and believed that by now, the entire Temple should know it. Even Master Yoda, despite his insistence that he chooses a new Padawan. For Force's sake, even Dooku seemed to have it clear. But the old Grandmaster of the Order liked to stick his green nose where people didn't call him. Against the will of most of the Council, he had managed to attach Qui-gon to a red-haired boy who hated his guts.

That kind of arrangement, one Padawan with several teachers, was something that had not been seen for several millennia. It had become clear that it did not work well. However, no one had bothered to put it in writing, in some stone around the Temple, so Master Yoda had had no problem demanding an exception to which the Council had not been able to refuse.

Now Obi-wan Kenobi was following him like a lost puppy, and Qui-gon was beginning to lose the infinite patience he thought he had.  
On top of that, he was sent on a rescue mission with the child. After six months on a diplomatic trip through one of the systems near Alderaan. What was he supposed to do? At least the boy could read the mission specifications to him while he piloted. Melida/Daan was not a pretty planet, but they could manage just fine.

"Who is the Knight they sent first, and now we have to rescue from the Daan?"

"Jedi Knight Tahl, Master."

Silence flooded the front of the ship. Tahl. It couldn't be. Had Tahl been sent to a place like Melida/Daan?

"They send her to negotiate a peace treaty or help with the diplomatic aspect at least, but it didn't work out very well," explained Obi-wan, as if he had heard his question.

"Okay, listen to me, young one. We will locate her, remove her, stabilize her, and bring her back to the Temple. That is our mission. I don't want detours or discussions, understand?" he ordered, keeping a firm, level voice.

Qui-gon remembered treating Xanatos much more gently, almost softly, and it hadn't done him any good. He had fallen prey to the dark side. Perhaps the answer was to completely change strategy.

"Yes, Master," the boy replied without looking up from the ground.

It was strange to reconcile the boy in front of him with the defiant Initiate who had rejected him in the council room months ago. A part of him, one controlled by his pride and too close to the dark side to admit it out loud, enjoyed seeing how the tables had turned. He had rejected him (in the same way that Qui-gon had done before, but better not to think about it), and now Obi-wan had to treat him with a respect that he indeed did not feel.

The twisted part of Qui-gon savored every moment of the scene, keeping it to himself, to remember from time to time. Even if the rest of Qui-gon's mind felt ashamed of his behavior.

The next few hours, the last before landing on the planet, passed in a silence neither of them bothered to break. Qui-gon was focused on piloting but occasionally looked away to see what his young Padawan was doing. On one occasion, he saw him fiddle with a comm, and the man reminded himself to confiscate it before going out of the ship. He needed the boy focused, so he would keep him on board the vessel until they finished the mission. Then he would give it back. It would be best for everyone. He didn't want to be discovered because the message reception sound was on or something.

They touched down, and Qui-gon turned to Obi-wan, holding out his hand. The boy looked at his hand and then at him as if he didn't understand what he wanted. A quick glance at the comm made his intentions very clear. The boy wrapped the object entirely, leaving it inside his fist as if that could prevent what would happen next.  
If Obi-wan had been younger, or simply the circumstances had been different, Qui-gon would have thought he was cute. However, being thirteen years old already, he needed to learn how to behave.

"Padawan, give it to me."

"No, please, I promise that-"

"I don't care what you promise, young one. Give it to me, or I'll take it from you," he said, making it clear that he would give it to him one way or another.

Reluctantly, the redhead held out his hand. Qui-gon gave him a slight smile and made an effort so the boy could see how he kept it in one of the compartments near the cockpit.

"It will be safe there until we get back," he promised.

Obi-wan didn't answer him, but he nodded with an expressionless face that many sabac players would envy and followed him outside. Qui-gon really wanted to do a good job, but Obi-wan was too unpredictable. Too much like Xanatos. He shook his head and tried to catch a breath.

The exterior was as decadent as only a planet that had been embroiled in civil war for centuries could be. The forest they were in had begun to grow around explosions that heavy artillery had caused, and tree roots were trying in vain to fill in the gaps beneath them. The green creatures around them were stitches to something too hard to nurse back to health. 

The Force screamed in pain around him, and although Qui-gon had a hard time maintaining his composure, it had nothing to compare with the boy's response. Obi-wan put his hands on his ears as if they were really yelling at him, and his eyes were off-center for a few seconds. The Force screamed one more time, this time to Obi-wan before it settled in horrible despair.

"Padawan?"

"Knight Tahl must be found as quickly as possible. Whatever they're doing to her… she won't last much longer," the boy affirmed before walking decisively towards the nearest town.

Qui-gon hadn't felt a thing.

His bond with Tahl was one they had shared for years, nurtured for decades, but he hadn't been able to feel it. His connection to the Living Force was one of the more powerful in the entire Temple. However, this boy who had become a Padawan only six months ago had been able to tell not only her condition but where she was too.  
He followed him until they were in front of what, once, must have been a city. If he was not mistaken, the last functional port was nearby. He and Obi-wan paused before exiting the tree line, and Qui-gon struggled to locate the contact the Temple had promised them. Wehutti, leader of the Melida, should be waiting for them inside the metropolis.

It was like being surrounded by ghosts, and Qui-gon struggled to differentiate between those who had died and his very alive contact. It was a disturbing feeling.

"Master, I do not like this man's presence in the Force," Obi-wan muttered.

"Don't be ridiculous, young one. What makes you say that? This place is covered by the odor of war. No one can have a pleasant presence in the Force."

"But the Unifying Force-"

"You should stop talking to Master Dooku so much, Padawan. I am an expert on that man, and I can tell you that there's nothing you can learn from him other than looking over your shoulder at others and believing that you know more than anyone else in the universe. If you feel so uncomfortable, you can stay outside while I meet with the leader of the Melida," the man conceded.

The city was deserted, except for the building that was supposed to be the Melida's operations base. As long as he didn't get too far away, there would be no problems.

"Stay around here, Padawan. I'll go talk to them," Qui-gon informed him before setting off.

He did not wait for the boy to answer him because Xanatos had been given the option to comment, and in the end, his opinions had led them to a path of no return. No. The teacher gave the orders, and the Padawan had to obey because the former not only had more experience, but his years of life had taught him how to act on certain occasions. The boy just needed to trust. Obi-wan would be the perfect Padawan, or he would fail. There wouldn't be any middle ground.

Barely fifteen minutes later, Qui-gon wondered if the Force enjoyed laughing at him. The meeting was a trap, Wehutti had tried to catch him, and almost all of the Melida were bags of skin and bones trying to stay upright as best they could. He gritted his teeth as he ran towards the courtyard where he had left Obi-wan, furious at his own ego and because Obi-wan had been right.

Bad intentions were something that abounded on this planet.  
"Padawan!" he exclaimed when he had already lost a few precious seconds looking for the red-haired boy, who was no longer where he had left him.

"Master! Here!" replied the boy from one of the adjacent alleys.  
Qui-gon, already hearing the others approaching, had no choice but to follow. The redhead turned determinedly, and just a few minutes later, he lifted the lid of a nearby sewer and gestured for him to go inside.

"Master... please just... trust me," the boy pleaded.

Qui-gon almost refused, but he remembered Tahl, trapped somewhere in the Daan headquarters, and decided it was worth getting a little dirty if he could rescue her.

"You better know where you are taking us."

"Oh no, I don't know."

"Padawan!"

"But my new friends know better than anyone," Obi-wan replied when they touched the bottom of the gutter. Several dozen children began to emerge from behind tunnel mouths and half-finished walls.  
"These are Nield and Cerasi, and they have fascinating things to tell us," Obi-wan commented, his gaze made of stone and ready to challenge him if necessary.

A boy and a girl ultimately got out of the shadows, and Qui-gon saw that they weren't older than Obi-wan. Maybe a couple of years tops. Her hair was like fire, a couple of shades lighter than Obi-wan's. Simultaneously, the boy got his brown mop in an irregular cut that talked about functionality more than fashion. Nothing to do with the intricate hairstyles that could be seen in many of the uptown Coruscant. 

Like the rest of the children, all younger than them, both of them were dirty and malnourished, and Qui-gon could not help but be shocked at how far the situation had come in that place. Just seconds later, he also realized that whoever they were, his Padawan had only made life hopelessly problematic for everyone.

For things like this, he had not wanted a new Padawan.

* * *

History says I'm almost almighty. Stories say that I guide lightsabers in battle and wise people in their long journeys to find their role in this galaxy. The reality is that I don't know everything and that sometimes I have to see people because of my own stupid mistakes trying to correct a wrong. Melida/Daan was so engraved into Obi-wan life and personality that it was impossible to keep it from happening. Now I just can hope that my own meddling isn't the reason why he doesn't get out of there alive.


	11. Cerasi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, a chapter just flows better than anything you have written before. This is the case. I hope you enjoy Cerasi as much as I enjoyed writing her. I just the read the original source of this Melida/Daan that I only read on fics, so some parts are really influenced by its original source. However, as this is a canon divergence, they are not the same. Thank you for reading!!! I love your comments and kudos!!

The Jedi have never had a comfortable situation. Still, in the last decades of the Republic, increasingly under the Senate's control but without its support, the Order did not reach all the places it would like. Many were those who strove to follow my plans, but they could not always do so. And sometimes, those who claimed to be my most prominent followers would have their judgment clouded by their own hubris.

* * *

Cerasi didn't know when she had stopped counting time in days and started measuring it in battles. Maybe since she was born. When she met Nield, she tried to tally it on saved children, but bombs and blaster fire wouldn't let her. Melida/Daan's time was counted in survival, attacks, and monotony that left everyone who lived on the planet without hope.

So, when she had seen this red-haired boy barely reaching his age, with a lightsaber on his belt and an apprehensive look, Cerasi decided that she wanted to count the time in days again. Maybe that was her last chance to do it, and this Jedi or his companions could help them. She alerted Nield to tell him what she was seeing, and then the boy joined her in observing. A couple of minutes passed, maybe less, but one of the times they blinked, the boy had disappeared.

"What are you doing?" asked a voice behind them.

She had no idea how it had happened, but the boy had moved so quickly they hadn't seen it, and now the redhead didn't seem very happy.

"You are in danger. The Melida will not give you what you have come for. They will want to use you to get the Senate to listen to them," Cerasi said, deciding that the best course of action was, to be honest and direct.

"And you don't?" the boy replied, arching his brow, unconvinced.

"We can help you rescue the Jedi. She is the one you have come looking for, right? "

The boy did not confirm or deny anything, but that was enough answer for her. The Jedi would not have come to Melida/Daan for any reason other than one of their own. But it didn't matter. They would take advantage of the situation as much as they could.

"I think your Master has just discovered that he is not as welcome as he believed," Nield indicated, pointing to where a man as broad and tall as a mountain was hurrying away from the headquarters.

"I'm going to go meet him," Obi-wan said as he started wandering off. "When I return, you can take us to safety and tell us what happens on this planet."

Just a minute later, the redhead came back at full speed, followed by his Master. Nield and Cerasi led them to the nearest sewer entrance, and, once they had advanced enough to feel safe, they turned to look at the two Jedi.

The older man watched them as many adults had before they stopped caring. Sadness, confusion, and a massive amount of pity. The latter was something that bothered her, mostly. Cerasi didn't need or want their sympathy. 

She said nothing and led them through the graves and the children scattered around her to a slightly more secluded space. Enough to give the feeling of privacy but to allow the rest to see them with ease.

"As we have already told him, neither the Melida nor the Daan are going to help you. The Daan are not going to return your Jedi partner for nothing. We can help you out," Cerasi explained in a firm voice, sitting as straight as her spine would allow.

For his part, Nield was in a much more relaxed position, at least on the surface. Cerasi could perfectly see how his hands twitched every time the Jedi repositioned in his seat, clearly too small for him. Meanwhile, the girl tried to keep her attention focused on him, but her eyes couldn't help but stray to the red-haired boy.

"I think before that, we could start by telling you our names and do a short presentation of sorts. I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my Padawan, Obi-wan Kenobi. "

The man clearly expected them to reciprocate, and Cerasi savored the few seconds during which neither she nor Nield made any move to fulfill the Jedi's expectations.

"My name is Cerasi, and this is Nield. We are the leaders of The Young, a third faction that is fed up with seeing our planet and home destroyed by quarrels that no one remembers anymore," she completed her reply with confidence.

"I think the other parties are very clear about what they are fighting for, and it's not the destruction of the planet," the Jedi replied.

"That it isn't the objective doesn't mean that it isn't the result," answered Cerasi.

"The only thing they are clear about is what the Halls of Evidence tells them to remember," Nield spat the answer as if they were personally insulting him.

"What do you propose for us then?" Jinn changed the subject.

Obi-wan was still quiet, watching not only them but everything around him. Cerasi took note, being curious that the boy seemed to be gathering information rather than surprised by his situation.

"We can guide you to where the Daan are keeping the Jedi Master and create a distraction so you can get her out," Cerasi offered.

Jinn nodded, although it was clear that he distrusted them and the possible consequences of a no-obligation proposal of help. She and Nield would take care of that when the time came.

"Is it possible to visit those Halls of Evidence that you mentioned earlier?" the man asked as he got up.

Cerasi nodded, thinking of the possible routes they could take. Both spaces were in opposite directions, but it would not take more than a couple of hours to visit them, depending on how long the Jedi wanted to monitor them.

She decided that the first would be the Melida's and led them to the mausoleum that was supposed to evidence the horrible crimes committed by the Daan. Going there gave her shivers and nightmares, but if she wanted any chance to ask the Jedi to intercede in the conflict before they left, she needed to make them understand how bad the situation was.

As soon as she touched the golden orb of one of the columns, Quintama's hologram began to deliver the same old speech. Persecutions, hatreds dating back centuries, and dozens of battles no one remembered anymore. At some point, she and all the planet's inhabitants had lost count of everything they had lost in that absurd war. Worst of all, with the oblivion, it seemed that the deaths of hundreds had ceased to matter.

"The Daan sound like bloodthirsty people," the redheaded Jedi observed.

"Surely they think the same about the Melida," the older replied.

Cerasi was silent, although Nield moved from side to side, wanting to get out of there. Everyone at The Young knew how little he liked Halls. When the Jedi were satisfied, the girl headed the other way, into Daan territory.

"You know the tunnels well," Obi-wan mentioned, catching up with her.

Nield and Qui-Gon advanced behind them, clearly attentive to the conversation.

"I was the first to decide that I couldn't keep living up there. Children are used for arms factories, and those over fourteen are sent to fight. I couldn't continue participating in that massacre. I met Nield and, as they say, the rest is history. "

One she didn't feel like sharing, at least not yet.

She could absolutely notice how the older Jedi stared at her back, having understood her decision not to share her entire family history in the first conversation with people she still considered strangers. Despite this, he did not comment.

They ascended to the surface once she made sure no one was in sight, and they reached the lake that served as the Daan's Halls of Evidence. It had once been a beautiful space. It was just a poisoned place now, and in more ways than one.

"Welcome to Lake Weir. Enjoy the contamination of one of the few remaining water sources around here," Nield announced with the hint of disgust and despair that painted his voice every time the subject came up.

Again, more battles, revenge, and bloodlust twisted the insides of everyone who would listen. They sounded so convinced that their cause was fair that Cerasi understood that many people continued the war by tradition and sheer inertia. They had reached the situation where, if they did not fight, the Melida and the Daan would surely not know how to relate in any other way between them.

"You see it? If we don't stop this now, we never will. The Young are fed up with so much violence. You are Jedi; you have to understand our position. It is the only way to save what little remains of our planet," Nield exclaimed, shifting his gaze between Qui-Gon and Obi-wan.

The redhead nodded fervently, the little braid behind his ear bouncing up and down. Qui-Gon, for his part, had put his hand on his chin and was massaging his beard in an unmistakable gesture of deep thought.

"We can help you rescue the other Jedi Master. We know where she is, and creating a distraction won't be too difficult. Both sides are always waiting for the other to attack, so a single spark will be enough to send them out of their barracks crying out for the blood of their enemies," Cerasi intervened.

"Of course, we need you to stay out of the way during the attack. This is not your fight, nor your mission. The priority is to rescue your companion."

Nield's demand didn't seem to sit well with the Master mainly, and the apprentice didn't seem happy either. Did he want to participate? Maybe she could talk it over with Nield and let him help them. Convincing the Jedi that their cause was the right one would be easier if they started with those closest to them in age. Cerasi felt guilty thinking of the boy as an instrument, but despair was more powerful than guilt.

Nield looked at her to make sure she agreed, then turned to them. She beckoned and began to make her way back to the shelter.

"However, you may want a more professional opinion about the plans. I would have no problem in-"

"No thanks, we can get them done perfectly well without the help of Olders," Cerasi cut him off before she could finish his offer.

"One more pair of eyes-"

"We said no, Jedi," Nield stated bluntly.

The Older was angry, although he tried to hide it behind a neutral mask of seriousness and professionalism. However, not even his own Padawan, who now wore a discreet smile, seemed to agree with him at the time. Cerasi felt a strange sense of pride when she saw that she had been able to make the red-haired boy laugh. Until then, he had been as severe as his Master.

As they returned to the main room, the Jedi separated from them and talked a few seconds in hushed tones. When the conversation ended, Qui-Gon walked back toward the tunnel as Obi-Wan sat in one of the tombs near him.

Cerasi shook her head and sent one of the girls, Deila, to follow him. They did not want the Jedi to get lost, found, or that he tried to betray them. She hated having to be always thinking about the possible double intentions of the people around, especially adults. Once that was settled, she approached Obi-wan with a smile. He corresponded quickly. Nield followed, and soon the three were sitting together.

"Anything is troubling you?" Cerasi asked, seeing that the boy was only physically present, with his mind far away.

"Hey? Well- I- this- "

"Stop fidgeting. We aren't going to bite you or something like that," Nield cut Obi-wan's nervous stammering.

Cerasi nudged his friend. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the redhead. She smiled, clearly seeing some of the signs that meant that Nield was somewhat interested in the Jedi padawan.

"I guess this place will not have a comm, right?"

Cerasi chuckled a snort that sounded forced, thinking of how many times she had dreamed of a comm unit with enough power to go directly to the Senate and ask for mediation or something to stop the fight. She shook her head and asked what he needed it for.

"My Master ... well, let's say, my other Master-"

"Do you have two Masters?" Nield asked, surprised.

Cerasi was also shocked. Almost everyone knew, or at the least thought, that every Padawan had a Master, and vice versa.

"It is a complicated situation. I'll tell you if we have time. The point is that I had a comm to send a message that I was fine, but I had to leave it on the ship, and I'm sure that at this point, my Master will be worried," he replied.

"The only comms that work are in the headquarters of the Melida and Daan. The truth is I'm not even sure they will reach that far," Nield developed information.

"Well, I don't think we're much far away from the ship, anyway. Maybe I can go on a fast trip. Or I'll call when we get back, "Obi-wan decided before changing the subject.

Meanwhile, Cerasi retained the comm information and the possibility of a fighter jet in the vicinity. The Jedi had not come in anything less potent than that. Maybe ... maybe they had a chance against the Olders.

* * *

Do you know war, my children? I hope you don't. However, Obi-wan Kenobi seemed to encounter her at any turn his life took. I tried to protect him. I swear, I did. But his drive to keep others safe was too powerful, even for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little note about the next chapter:  
> -Nield is a chaotic bisexual and Obi-wan does what he thinks is right.

**Author's Note:**

> Haat Mado'ade: True Mandalorians  
> Buir: Father  
> Ad'ika: Little one, son, daughter, of any age  
> Jetti: Jedi  
> Kyr'tsad: Death Watch  
> Beskar'gam: Armor


End file.
